


Imprisoned

by Forever_In_Flames



Series: Choices [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: AU, Body Modification, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, M/M, Manipulation, Mpreg, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Prostitution, PoW, Prisoner of War, Public Humiliation, Slavery, Sticky Sex, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:09:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_In_Flames/pseuds/Forever_In_Flames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being captured by Decepticons in an investigation of an unresponsive medical outpost was not on Ratchet's to do list, nor was meeting a certain someone who he saved several million years ago, nor did he think he would be protecting more than his own life in his time in Koan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> So my first Fanfiction on this site (YAY i finally finished the first chapter) I'm not sure how long this story will be but we shall see, I decided to do the first Fanfiction of my OTP so enjoy. Critique and comments are welcome.

‘It’ll be a quick in and out routine mission, just to make sure that medical outpost Sigma is still a functioning and if not find any survivors and blow the whole base to kingdom come’ Ratchet replayed the words of Prowl as the SIC gave him a debriefing of a mission that he was now regretting volunteering for. After several major battles and tensions running high when soldier after soldier seemed to come through the door of his med bay in an unending stream of casualties some savable and some not so much, Ratchet decided that a short off base mission would be good breather from the high stress stuffiness of Iacon’s walls.

The plan was simple he, First Aid, Jazz, and Jawlock would go to Sigma located about 50 clicks south from the outside of Kaon, an about 2 clicks under Cybertron’s surface, a small outpost that was in charge of immediate repairs for those to critical to be moved to a more secure Autobot base. Twenty medics were stationed there with a front liner each to act like a bodyguard. After a siege on Kaon’s south-eastern border, which ended in many casualties Sigma went about their jobs and got the injured back underground and cared for until they were able to go back to the front lines.

The only problem was several days later Iacon had received a distress signal from the underground, it wasn't clear what the message held due to the poor quality of the transmission. Their main computer had been sabotaged, but what the security were able to figure out was that the Autobots they brought back weren't Autobots at all, but Decepticons in disguise. It seemed that they had created a new technology to replicate any CNA sampled and have the appearance, personality, and skills of the bot the sample was taken from.

Somebot had given the Decepticons a heads on the plans to attack the south-eastern border, and they ambushed the team brutality leaving no survivors, then disguising themselves as the fallen Autobots, and making the corpses look like offline Con’s. The rest is history; Team Sigma came to pick up the wounded “Autobots” just as they were entering the base they went into a routine lockdown to make sure the security was up to par.

The Decepticons had one hell of a snitch; they knew Sigma inside and out, where all the sleeping quarters were, when the base would end lockdown protocol, and how to sabotage the main computer. The suspects were being tracked down now, but they still needed a team to infiltrate the underground base so the medical files of each Autobot that was ever treated there would not fall into the wrong hands and potentially be used against them.

So there they were walking in strut deep rust wash, heading into highly hostile and deadly territory. Trudging along Jawlock the blue, black, and silver sleek tank kept a vigilant eye over their surroundings. The femme was loyal to the cause joining after the Cons took Kaon; she had proven her loyalty to the Autobot even with the discrimination and whispered words of hate behind her back.

~0000000000000000000~

Holding up a hand Jazz stopped the patrol

“What do you see?” Asked Jawlock

“Two bogies 2 o’clock seem to be a bit far for patrolling the border of Kaon...” Jazz said

And just like that the two enemies turned away heading towards the Con controlled city state.

‘That was odd’ Ratchet mused ‘Why bother coming out here at all when they weren’t even going to patrol the whole Sigma area?’

Keeping their helms down the small group continued to the underground outpost, the base was only half a click away, with it being so close the bots had to sink lower into the rust wash. Moving along as stealthily as possible Jazz in front while Jawlock took up the rear, First Aid had stumbled on something causing him to crash head first into Ratchet’s lower back.

“Easy there Aid you gotta watch your step, you don’t wanna blow our cover,” Jazz hissed

“Right sorry, I felt something grab my stabilizer and it won’t let go whatever it is.” First Aid replied trying to shake off the heavy addition

“Here give me your pede,” Jawlock whispered

Lifting his strut backwards the femme saw what was causing the problem, looking around to see if anymore Cons were around, and satisfied that she saw none, the femme started to break the rusted shut joint of the servo keeping First Aid stationary, after several moments of struggling the servo finally let go with a crack of metal and straining tension wires

“Okay were good to go” Jawlock said

“Thanks Jaw,” First Aid said

“It’s no problem, it’s nothing compared to what the rest of you do,” the tank replied

Looking like he was about to protest that statement, Jawlock waved him off knowing that they didn’t have time for that type of topic at the moment. She would probably regret waving aid off later, during the full on rant he would give her but she had better things to focus on other than some irate healer who had another thing coming.

“You two keep up we’re approaching the base and we’ve got to be in a tight formation if we want this to work,’ Ratchet said to the duo who was slowly falling behind.

Speeding the two regained the lost ground and continued in their original positions, walking along Ratchet suddenly had a very strong sense of foreboding like something would happen in Sigma that would change his life forever not to mention the lives around him. It was an odd cold crawling sensation creeping over his plating numbing it, unable to ignore it putting him on high alert. The pounding of spark didn’t help; the frantic pounding of the life force seemed to agree with his foreboding feeling. Shaking his helm trying to clear it, he had to pull himself together this wasn’t like him at all, maybe it was the fact that they had been practically swimming in polluted rust wash, or the fact that an odd aroma seemed to follow them around ever since the mission started which was no less than nauseating to his sensitive systems.

“Hey you alright doc, you’re kina zonin’ out on us,” asked Jazz without looking back from the trail ahead keeping a sharp look out for any other patrols.

“Yeah I’m fine, just a bit nauseous but that’s nothing to worry about,” Ratchet replied

“Alright if you say so doc,” Jazz said, then suddenly stopping making everyone stop dead in their tracks, they were here. 

The entrance was nothing but rubble, how the base was set up was a feat in itself, while in a scouting mission a handful of Autobots discovered a rust wash river leading into a hallowed out empty cavern large enough to carry at least 50 moderately sized patients and still have room for the medics. Once the report was sent in about the opportunity for a new medical base, command approved of it and the underground cavern was converted into the state of the art med bay with the tools to treat at 20 more patients then expected carrying a grand total of 70 patients and several squads treated at once. The door was a simple reinforced, double lock, bullet proof and firewall protected door disguised to match the cavern to make it seem that it was just a bombed out piece of Cybertronian alloy.

To enter the outpost they would have to dive under the fallen upper lip of the cavern and jump down into the deep rust wash lake, after many years of having the river drain into the cavern created a bit of an underground lagoon eroding away the metal below the area where the rust wash drained directly was the deepest part of the lagoon and then get relatively shallower as the bot would walk towards the medical out post protected by another set of doors, which led to a large med bay with several private rooms, and as well as recovery rooms, ICU, and barracks for those stationed there. While if this were a normal ay then the entrance would be cleared and a ramp would descend over the lagoon for easier transportation of the injured. But this wasn’t a normal day.

“Alright everyone masks up and vents sealed.” Jazz instructed as every excluding First Aid seeing that he already had a mask and visor, Jazz flipped up his white mask, while Ratchet flipped up his full tinted glass mask, and Jawlock flipped up her red see through visor mask and matte black derma protector. The purpose of the mask was so that the rust wash couldn’t get into the inner workings of the optics, and tanks of the mechs causing inner erosion leaving a mech crippled and severely blinded, while rust wash in the vents would be integrated and introduced to vital systems which could be potentially fatal.

“You guys all set?” Jazz asked getting nods of confirmation, no later they followed Jazz under the collapsed entrance. Once they made it under the collapse entrance which was harder for Ratchet and Jawlock due to their larger frames. The four bots took a free fall into the area below,

:Sync.: Sending out a confirmation code word before moving on to make sure that his team was still together, getting three other responding comms Jazz led the way through the red liquid.

~0000000000000000000~

Traveling through the murky water was on odd sensation, you can’t see anything not even object that were two feet in front of your helm. Nor could you hear anything everything sounded muffled in rust wash, like somebot had put a thick cooling blanket over your audios. The only thing you could really hear was the beating of your spark, feeling the rhythmic beat of his spark was rather comforting to Ratchet, it let him know that he was still alive. It was better than the stark contrasts of spark struggling to stay alive fluctuating abnormally, or the slow beat of a spark slipping away. Ratchet had felt too many of those as his time as a medic for his liking.

: Jazz to Ratchet:

: Ratchet here,:

:Ratch’ were comin’ up to th’ main entrance, we need ta check to see if there were any survivors, Jawlock will be going with you while Aid will be goin with meh.:

: Alright, what portion of the base did you plan to have me scope out?:

: You and Jawlock will check sleeping quarters, recovery rooms, and the mess hall. Meh and Aid will get th’ rest:

: Copy, Ratchet out:

: Jazz out:

~000000000000000~

In the silence of the cave four bots were her emerging from the rust wash, and the hiss of unsealing vents and retracting masks. The heavy pede steps echoed around the tall walls giving an eerie feel to the already energon covered entrance of the medical bay, walking up the door Jazz slowly pried open the door to take a peek inside, noting that the coast was clear he waved the rest inside.

“We all know the plan?” Jazz asked

“Ratchet and I will scope out the recover quarters, sleeping quarters, and the mess hall while you and first aid will check out the private rooms, rec room, and operating bay.” Jawlock repeated the plan

“Right, and if there are any survivors or any clue to who is the snitch bring it back with you when we meet again in half a jour.”

Splitting up Jawlock and Ratchet started walking towards the sleeping quarters of the medics, opening each door and searching the room thoroughly, it wasn’t until Ratchet reached the fifth room where he noticed a still working and open journal entry. Picking up the journal Ratchet started to read the entry

 

Sigma Medical Outpost

Medic~ Flicker _Frontliner~ Woodgrinder

Date ~111/2276/546

Well it seems that we’re running low on lubricant….Again. Is it really necessary for the frontliners to have lubricant wrestling competitions, I mean really. But what are you going to do it’s not like they have anything else to do then that and frag each other into stasis lock, the way you hear most of them walking through the halls at night you would that it would be their life goal. Well it’s not like I’m complaining when I’m between two sexy frontliners. Woodgrinder is especially good with his glossa-

‘Well I didn’t need to know that’ Ratchet thought.

Skipping the very detailed description of what the frontliner could do with his glossa Ratchet putting the pad after deducing that there was no more important info ratchet made a move to leave the room and datapad behind, missing a crucial footnote added by the vulgar medic

As usual I am off topic, it seems that we will be getting some new patients soon, command just sent us a message, but it’s strange, it seems almost corrupted whenever we try to hack into it snaps shut just like a set of spring wired jaws.

Flicker out~

~00000000000000000~

“Hey Ratch I think I heard someone crying out for help, you gotta come quickly, comm Jazz and Aid to they might be needed.” Jawlock said

: Ratchet to Jazz, come in Jazz:

No answer, only a thick static

: Ratchet to Aid, come in Aid:

“Jaw were on our own for this, I can’t reach Jazz or Aid.” Ratchet said heading over towards his partner.

“I think the remaining bots are in here but I can’t see a thing, Ratch you have more sensitive equipment so you’ll be better at finding your way around in there while I look for the power source, once I do I’ll meet up with Jazz and Aid and bring them over.” Jawlock said

“Alright sounds good.” Ratchet replied walking into the dark, sensing the faint life signatures of Jazz and First Aid?

Ratchet started getting a very bad feeling in the pit of his fuel tank that something was very, very off. The beeping of his comm distracted him for a split second, the message wasn’t very settling either, just a jumbled message from jazz that he couldn’t make out, the only thing he could make out was something about a set up….

“Oh, frag me,”

No later did the lights come on did Ratchet see how mush slag he was really in. Turns out that there were survivors, if you could call them that, they barley looked online and their injuries weren’t a top priority. Then again nothing came without a catch in this war, the survivors were being held at gun point by at least twelve dozen Cons. Jazz was pinned to the ground, hands tied in an uncomfortable looking position with military grade stasis cuffs, while First Aid had his hands crushed and a wicked looking blade to his throat.

“If I were I wouldn’t move medic, unless you want the energon of your fellow Autobots on your servos,” and unnerving familiar voice said from behind him, shifting his optics to subtly look behind him Ratchet felt a stab a betrayal to know that it was Jawlock holding up an electric charge disperser to his helm.

“What are you doing Jawlock, weren’t you I don’t know on our side?” Ratchet asked

“You still haven’t figured it out? I was never an Autobot medic; you’ve been played like the rest of your gullible soft-sparked soldier.” The femme said with cold indifference as she stripped of his comms, medical tools, and weapons.

“But why bring us here; I’m sure there was a reason to drag us out in the middle of nowhere.” Ratchet asked trying to get a better idea of what was going on in the femme’s helm.

“Well that’s for me and you to find out, now be a dear and stay still, the sooner your unconscious the sooner we might let the survivors go.” Jawlock said with a hidden warning admits her words that translated pretty clearly to I will kill everyone in this room to complete the mission I was given.

Putting his hands up as surrender, Ratchet saw Jazz shake his helm. If his life meant it was going to save at least fifty more he was willing to make that sacrifice, when Jawlock came up behind him he was semi prepared for the kick that brought him to his knees, his hands were grabbed roughly and shoved into military grade stasis cuffs. What he wasn’t prepared for was the burning jolt of electricity to zing through his circuits, leaving him paralyzed.

“Oh the honorable Autobot CMO he would do anything to save his patients even if it meant risking his own life, well listen here medic this will be the last choice that you’ll be making in a long time,” Jawlock said delivering a kick to his gut and helm.

“Kill them and bring the other two with us, we have meeting with Megatron, and sure he would like some company in his throne, that place is so drab he could use some new furniture.” Jawlock said with a smirk. 

Feeling himself being pulled off the ground, Ratchet could only look on in horror as the survivors were lined and shot execution style one by one, the next thing he knew he was face to face with a long tube spraying a greenish mist into his face plate.

“Nighty night medic, enjoy your last glimpses of freedom while you still can.” An unnamed mech said as he gave a pat to his aft, Ratchet wanted to voice his opinion to curse Jawlock to the pit and back, to save the dying mechs on the floor no more than three meters away, but no matter how hard he tried his systems kept on happily shutting down one after another, unaware of the immediate danger he was in.

His systems felt sluggish like nothing wanted to work, going limp Ratchet gave up the fight against his body and welcomed the darkness.


	2. Crystals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet, First Aid and Jazz have been captured by Jawlock the double agent and two other Decepticons, now Ratchet must deal with the journey from Sigma to Kaon while trying to survive and figure out what's in store for him and his companions.

Systems reboot in tee minus three clicks……Aborting reboot not an available option.

Energon reserves reaching critical……

Lower motion relays in auto repair……..

Memory files corrupted attempting to repair……..

Rebooting optical feed……..

Equilibrium off……

Groaning Ratchet slowly came back from his dark oblivion, his vision blurred. Not like the saying motion was helping clear his vision, where exactly was he? Why was he forced into a reboot why was he out in the first place? The only reason a forced reboot was needed was if a bot was put into stasis my external means, the last thing he could remember was heading into a dark room where Jawlock had herd the cries for help….Jolting Ratchet finally noticed the hands that were holding him around his waist, when they through him to the ground. The ground seemed a lot harder when his helm hit the jagged crystal cluster conveniently right below him.

“Welcome back to the world of the online sunshine~” An unfamiliar voice said.

His world still a blur of colours and shapes, using the only strength he had Ratchet brought his hands to push himself off the ground, flipping himself so that he was face down and able to get up quicker. Unfortunately a pair of rough hands grab his arms out from underneath him and a heavy foot crushed his frame back into the now crystal dust. Struggling to intake air Ratchet could hear the faint protests of a would be feisty Jazz, but with his semi clearing vision he could see just by looking at his companion that Jazz was heavily drugged to keep him docile.

“Leave ‘m be yu’ cowad’s.” Jazz slurred

Which earned him an upper cut to his abdomen, the force of the blow left him falling to his knee spikes and his vents struggling to intake the cool atmosphere, 

“Know your place Auto-scum, you’re in Con territory now so we call the shots.” The unnamed Con hissed

“Easy Bomber we want to deliver them to Megatron alive, a little beat up but alive, plus you know that Jawlock would do if she found out that you sent one of our bargaining tokens into stasis lock, I’m getting chills just thinking about it, you saw the last mech who crossed her path…”

“Yeah tell me about it, I haven’t seen someone that disfigured since Vortex was given a bunch of new tools, if you can call them that. Hey Cord why does Megatron want these Autobots so bad, they just seem like your regular run of the mill enemy.” Bomber said

“You know that’s the type of attitude that keeps getting you put on a med berth barley online, you underestimate our enemies. The one that’s under your foot is the medical terror Ratchet the CMO of the Autobots, this one is his apprentice and the arm of Defensor, while the one groaning on the ground over here is Optimus Prime’s TIC. If these three weren’t so heavily drugged we would probably not be in one piece at the moment.” Cord replied giving a pointed look to the bot underneath Bomber’s pede.

“Oh, so that means..” Bomber said

“Yup.” Cord said knowing what his companion was going to say

“Well slag, I guess I should stop stepping on him then-“ Bomber said,

“Yes, yes you should get off my ticket to a promotion!” A voice snapped from a nearby cluster of crystals,

Groaning Ratchet strained his neck cables to get a better look at the approaching figure, when they finally did come into viewing range Ratchet felt his tanks drop. When the Cons said Jawlock they were talking about the femme who had fooled them into thinking that she was a bot for the past two stellar cycles. Feeling the heavy pede step off of him Ratchet didn’t even have a second to regain his breath before a harsh, demanding hand grabbed his chevron yanking is upper body off the ground, whimpering at having such a sensitive piece of his frame handled roughly Ratchet tried to wiggles loose of the femme’s hold. Which only led Jawlock to grip tighter and violently shake him back and forth, bringing him up even higher and leaning down Lockjaw put her derma next his audio receptor

“Now listen here you and your other three Bots are going to listen to me and my subordinates from now until we get to Kaon, and then from there you will only take orders from lord Megatron. Whether you’re saved by your friends or not depends on you being alive, and to stay alive follow order, do you see where I’m going with this?” Asked the femme

Nodding reluctantly Ratchet tried to keep as much glare out of his stare as possible, glaring at the person holing you have in the air by the crest on your helm was probably not the smartest idea.

“Good, now let’s get going shall we? Now that one of them is awake it’s less work for us, Cord take the other medic and Bomber you take the spy. I’ll deal with our med bay terror” Jawlock said

Ratchet watched as Jazz was heaved up slung over the cons shoulder like he was some kind of carry pack while First Aid was dragged nonchalantly along the terrain, opening his mouth to protest only to slam it closed when he was shoved forwards,

“Get moving medic, and don’t go using that vocalizer unless you want it torn out, because I will gladly enjoy that. It got rather tiring listening to you bellow day in and day out. It seems like you always found something to grip about.….Well I guess that can be expected when you’re constantly patching these idiot Autobots back together again over and over, epically the ones who pull stupid rookie moves.” Jawlock said behind him using her EM field for the message to really hit home.

Stumbling through the small out clove that Jawlock had used to conceal her other team, they started heading south towards the main gates of what used to be a lively lower class city state now turned Decpticon fortress.

0000000000000000000000

To say that the trip was boring was a vast overstatement, the trip was long, tiring, and the pollution from the shots fired to and from Kaon made it hard for the Autobots to vent in the atmosphere properly. The Cons had no problem with the atmosphere, shooting mockingly pit comments and glances as Ratchet stumbled along being the only bot still conscious enough to respond to the comments.

They had started their journey to Sigma three jour before the next sol, with his HUD damaged there was no way to tell how long it had been. Jazz must have sent out a distress signal via commlink when was first captured, that is if they weren’t broken. When he had first woken up it was in the pitch dark, the two Cybertronians suns setting breems ago, now the suns had time to set and rise three more times, the lack of energon and inhibitor collars placed around their necks along with the fumes from Kaon wasn’t exactly making the trip easy. Jazz was still drugged out if his mind and First Aid while being dragged along carelessly had gotten his upper back strut supporter caught on a wickedly sharp piece of metal sticking out of the ground. The Con didn’t notice or didn’t bother to care even with the horrible noise of shredding cables, ripping alloys and the large pool of energon growing beneath Ratchet’s apprentice.

Cord only bothered to patch him up when Jawlock said that the Autobots could follow that trail and proceeded to slug him across his face plate. It wasn’t a good patch job either, the long gagged wound was crudely welded together leaving the surrounding plating warped due to the intense heat, and since First Aid started to come back to some sense of his surroundings it was almost torture in itself to hear his apprentice’s whimpers of pain and pleas for help, and knowing at the moment Ratchet could do nothing for his pain delirious student.

Jazz wasn’t fairing any better, Ratchet wasn’t quite sure what got Jazz drugged out of him processor but he had a keen feeling that it had to do with the deep wound that had zigzagged across Jawlock’s face plate, and it also explained why Jazz’s favored energon infused blade was hanging by her pelvic array.

“Stop dragging your pedes medic the longer it takes to get to Kaon the more impatient our lord will get, and the more he will give reign to Vortex and his ;lackeys in the brig to do what they want!” Jawlock said as she violently yanked on the chain connected to Ratchet’s neck.

Gagging Ratchet complied with little grace as he tried to catch up to the leading femme. Walking two strides behind her any less would earn him a kick to the abdomen, anymore would earn him a yank on the chain, so there was walking two strides behind what he thought was a trusted comrade.

00000000000000000

“Nap times over medic, get up.” Jawlock said into his audio.

After Jawlock’s warning about pede dragging they had taken a break for the night a few breems after the last sun had set, now at the crack of dawn they were being roused for another long trek to Kaon, whether he should feel glad or not Ratchet could vaguely see the outlines of the city in the distance, it seemed that they only had two and a half more clicks to go before reaching the doors. The thing was that was only to the front gates they still had to go through the city, deep into the center where the main Con fortress was held, and Ratchet had a sinking feeling that Jawlock and her lackeys would try and make this as humiliating as possible.

Getting up Ratchet squinted as his optics adjusted to the light of dawn, he tried to subtly pushed the out of line back struts into their proper placements twisting his upper frame until he herd the small cracking noise of repositioned backstrust. 

“Lord Megatron we have successfully obtained the targets and are about 2 clicks from Kaon ETA should be half a breem…….No my lord no permanent damage was done to any of the targets…..All Autobots were terminated at Sigma………Minor injuries sustained and lack of energon is the worst of their conditions……..”

‘Minor injuries? Try telling that to the bot who tends to First Aid, that is not what you call a minor injury.’ Ratchet thought as he eavesdropped on the conversation between Megatron and Jawlock,

“Of course my lord we shall see you soon.” Jawlock said then proceeded to turn off her comm.

“Lord Megatron is expecting us at 06:00 hours and I plan on delivering before then so let’s pick up the pace shall we?”

“Seems like a sound plan to me especially when Cord and I just got a comm from the further patrols saying we got a bounty hunter on our trail, probably for these three. The Autobots were to much of a sniveling pile of metal to come and get their own officers. Pathetic.” Bomber scoffed as he looked down at the now unconscious First Aid,

“Did they give any indication of who is tracking us?” Jawlock asked

“Either Lockdown or a new highly skilled guns for hire the Bots picked up,” Cord said looking behind them

“Probably the former, it’s hard to find new guns for hire now a jour since most of them have been killed off, jumped planet or have chosen a side.” Bomber added

“Just goes to show how truly valuable this Autobots are, and now they belong to only our lord and master.” Jawlock said noticing the withering glare the medic was sending her,

“You have a problem with that medic?” she asked in a sickly sweet tone.

Getting no answer or reaction from Ratchet she walked over she roughly grabbed his chin and put a blade to his throat “What do you have to say for yourself Ratch’? Have I left the med bay terror speechless? I wasn’t sure that was possible!” she said in a sarcastic tone as she leaned down, “You know I could kill you anytime I wanted.” To prove a point she slid the blade across his neck cables enough to let a small flow of energon fall down his neck and chest only to pool at his feet like discarded rust wash.

Holding his position and not flinching at the burning sting of cut neck cables, Ratchet was not about to give her the satisfactory of seeing him move away from the blade. He opened his mouth only to cough and splutter as the blue life force forced its way up and out of his nasal ridge and intake, after his cough episode was over Ratchet spit out the congealed energon and turned to face the smirking femme.

“Yeah and if you do, have fun explaining to your Master why you couldn’t deliver the promised targets, if I know Megatron and I like to think I do after all this time, he doesn’t like his subordinates failing him or disobeying a direct order. Now if you kill me I’m sure your medics will have one pit of a time patching whatever is left of you back up, or maybe since you hold him in such high regard he will stop using your services and treat you like useless cannon fodder.” Ratchet said with his usual snark, smirking internally as he saw the femme slowly lose the control of her features.

Schooling her features back into neutral she quickly took the blade away only to forcefully jam it into his side where there were larger gaps in the armor for better mobility, sinking the blade into the protoform beneath, twisting the blade and ripping it out Jawlock looked on at the gasping trembling mech that dropped at her pedes,

“Now that we know who has the power in this situation let’s get going shall we?” Yanking on the chain only made Ratchet groan and fall to his side clutching at his wound, still freely leaking energon, ex-venting and rolling her optics Jawlock heaved the medic to his feet slapping his faceplates to get him to focus on her words.

“Are you even listening I said were leaving so get you aft in motion, I’m not letting my lord wait any longer you’re just going to have to wait until we get to Kaon to patch up the wounds you’ve got there-”

“Jawlock if are very done with your little pep talk we need to get moving now, at least into the bad lands. My radar just picked up something and moving fast in our direction, and if we don’t get out of the crystals now we’re pretty much scrap out of luck.” Cord said.

Just then all three of them herd the distant motor sound of a hover transport,

“Let’s go once we clear the crystals we’ll be home free.” Bomber said taking the lead in their mad dash, all the while the motor getting louder and louder. Finally breaking free and jumping down the small cliff that led to the bad lands the three cons turned their helms up to see a large shadowy figure just on the edge of the cliff obscured by the tick branches, until the mystery bot turned and drove away.

000000000000000000000000000

~Hey boss Bot, they made it ta the badlands of Kaon. You’re gonna have ta pay extra if you want them back~

LD

Sighing Prowl comm’d his leader,

:Prowl to Optimus Prime:

:Optimus here what is it Prowl?:

:We have a situation, it seems like our bounty hunter is now asking for more now that our infiltration team had entered Kaon.:

:Alright ask him to come to the west end of Iacon to barbed wire wall for new negotiations, and hope we can come to an agreement so we can get the three of them out faster,:

: Understood sir, Prowl out:

:Prime out.:

Ex-venting the Prime rolled over to try and go back to recharge, he had to ask Prowl not to wake him at un-godly breems during the night cycle. The new news was worrying with three of his officers and two of his trusted friends and the brother of one the most stable gestalts, there was no guessing what Megatron had in store for them behind the walls of Kaon, not to mention that Lockdown would at least triple the price of his already hefty sum of credits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since don't really like the look of magenta energon, I decided to make it a blue in this fic like in TFP because i thought it suited the TF universe better due it being all glow-y and it just looks more appealing in my opinion.
> 
> Breem-hour  
> Jour-day  
> Sol-month  
> Night cycle-Nighttime
> 
> Thanks for reading :D


	3. History and Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cord gets a history lesson and reasons for who and and why people chose their sides of the war, and gets a better understanding of his feared CO Jawlock. Where Ratchet is aware that he might never come out of this situation alive when the group arrives at the gates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm back sorry for the long wait i went away for all July for camp and just got back like a few days ago, but i have the 4th chapter already being written so it won't come out as late, without further much ado i bring you the new chapter.
> 
> ~HGFHJGHJFHJF~ = Closed close distance Commlink  
> 'HGFFGHHGJHGJJ' =Thoughts  
> :HBJVHGCHCHH: =Closed long distance Commlink

:Jawlock what is your ETA?: a screechy voice practically screamed over the open comm link

:We’re on our way Commander Starscream ETA is five ticks, making our way through the badlands now.: Jawlock said rolling her optics, loyal she might be to the Decepticon cause there was one bot in the whole army she could not stand, and that would be Starscream. From his backstabbing tendencies and cowardice the bot wasn’t hard to dislike, it was surprise that somebot hadn’t killed him and taken his place. All that aside he had kept his place for a reason being an exceptionally talented and strong air commander and trine leader of the strongest trine formation Decpticon forces was one of them, as well as his experience in the science and exploration fields He wasn’t a horrible tactician either.

While he was on the kill list of every other Con that came to know him personally or was on the receiving end of his command bots did see why he was kept around by Megatron no matter the attempts made on his life, by his second in command.

:Well hurry up you don’t want to keep our lord waiting any longer then is needed you’re already behind schedule as of now, which reminds me what was the oh so important reason that you delayed your missions time schedule not once but twice:

:We’ve had some minor setbacks in keeping our prisoners alive and under control, but it has been handled tell Lord Megatron that we will be there later into the morning cycle, Jawlock out.:

Sighing the femme turned off her comm to relieve herself from any other calls from the disliked mech, turning towards the outline of Kaon. Still being the early hours of the solar cycle the battle worn city almost seemed peaceful unware of the unending war going on in it’s very streets.

At any given moment the battle hardened Decepticons would snap into battle ready positions, if they weren’t trying to tear out the fellow cybertronian’s throats some might call the efficiency and lack of fighting within the ranks a beautiful sight, but alas the effort is going towards the planet’s domination and control over the energon reserves.

“Come on mechs we need to keep moving unless we want ex-venting down our helm supports and blow another few thousand fuses which Hook and Smashmouth will complain about repairing, and you two know the drill so the faster we get there the less we have to deal with that and have more time to go on the leave Megatron promised if the mission given was successful.” Jawlock said as she walked towards Cord to pick up the medic he was carrying in order for her to take the call.

“This is going to cause quite a stir isn’t it? Are we sure Megatron knows what he’s doing bringing in three highly skilled and potentially deadly Autobots.” Cord questioned which earned him an energon blade under his neck cables, freezing all of Cord’s muscles cables tightened to prepare for a quick dodge to save himself the risk of death.

“Never question our lord and master Megatron will be the true leader of this planet Decepticons will rain over the rusting frames of offline Autobots or anyone who refuses to follow us, it would do you well to keep your helm down and mouth shut if you don’t want to end up with scraps.” Jawlock said with a lightly crazed glint in her red optics

Nodding his understanding Cord relaxed as the wickedly sharp blade was pulled away from neck cables and helm supports. Sharing a glance with Bomber he opened a comm with the other mech as Jawlock started trekking ahead.

~What was that all about it looked like she was going to tear me apart and enjoy it?!~

~Chill Cord you’re new so I’ll give you a break, and an explanation. Jawlock’s dedication runs deeper than any bond, she would do anything for Megatron even if it meant dragging her deactivating frame for his needs if it made him happy.~ Bomber replied

~Isn’t that a bit extreme?~

~How old are you kid?~

~19 vorns, and don’t call me kid I think I passed that stage when started taking lives to stay online,~

~Well that’s young to me and half the army, kid you weren’t around before the war broke out to see how bots in the lower caste were treated. Day in and day out miners were worked to exhaustion many dying in cave collapses, from bots young as 12 vorns to bots old as 68 vorns forced to work in the tight fume consumed tunnels with not even a break to let the vents cool off, even more offlined from overheating or clogged internals, and what did they get in return? Nothing. Only enough energon to get by and a few creds a solar cycle, we were treated like dirt because of the colour of our optics and our social standings, while the tower mechs sat up on their thrones sipping high grade while the politics who were supposed to be helping mechs that were suffering had spent more time sucking the nobilities’ spikes and warming their berths rather than making an effort to make Cybertron a better place.~

~And no one did anything to trying and convince the senate about the suffering of Cybertron’s bots?~ Cord asked

~Not all politicians were bad but once you had the support of the Towers there wasn’t much they could do considering that the Tower mechs and femmes owned a large part of Cybertron’s credits, plus anyone who would try to stand up against them would mysteriously disappear.~

~What about the Prime?~

~The Prime? Please, Sentinel was perfectly happy to keep Cybertron’s filth under his pede where he though we belonged rather than to help us.~

~So where does Megatron and Jawlock come into place with this?~ Cord asked

~As you know I’m sure Megatron wasn’t always Megatron, he was Megatronus or a more degrading title D-16. A simple mech who became something much more, slowly gaining his followers in a movement to fix the cruel society once and for all, and meeting with an enforcer by the name of Orion Pax that he thought that Cybertron did have a chance to start anew...~

~So what happened?~ Cord asked as the older mech trailed off

~Bots change views change Megatronus was beaten to a pulp by a bot who attacked him without restraint, treated him like the trash the tower mechs thought he was. Something snapped that day that made the peaceful protests go out into a full blown war and Megatron and Optimus Prime were created both fighting for their own causes in the pit hole we call a planet now. With that little history lesson out of the way, put yourself in Jawlock’s position a young femme a bright one none the less, forced to be a slave while her parents were the personal whores of two abusive tower mechs. Along with her twin she had to watch their creators struggle day through day until their sparks gave out. Can you imagine the trauma it must have caused, no later she was thrown out with her brother and forced into prostitution, Jawlock owes everything to Megatron for getting out of that situation and she would do anything to repay that debt.~

~I had no idea..~

~We all have our reasons kid, just depends on whether we act upon it. Jawlock isn’t the only one, most of the Decepticons joined at the beginning in order to create a better life for those who were ignored and shoved aside. Another big portion on the army are bots just looking for an excuses to kill while the others are young like you and don’t have a proper reason to fight but have to choose a side in order to live.~

Cord said nothing after that only hoisting the younger medic over shoulder plating and walking after Jawlock who had walked ahead and now was spec in the distance.

 

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Saying that everything hurt was an understatement, the swaying motion didn’t help with his rolling tanks. If it didn’t stop he was going to purge whatever was left in his tanks, and why was it so bright? Did his roommate forget to turn the lights out when he left for her night classes? Cogwheel knows he had early morning classes. Would it kill her to just turn the lights off when she left.

{ Next time I go out I should really lay off the high grade..} Ratchet thought squirming to get free of the constricting covers, right when he felt he was free he heard a voice an unfamiliar one say into his audio about squirming making him harder to carry.

Now that was disconcerting, trying to cycle his optics back on Ratchet was met with blinding orange light and a frustrated voice, until he felt the air current change and impact of a ground that definitely not the padded floor of his medical student dorm room.

Snapping to awareness when his helm finished smashing against the ground he realized that no he wasn’t in his dorm and that this was no longer a time where he didn’t have to worry about being blown up.

But where was he?

Looking around all he saw were blurred colours and shapes slowly coming into focus, turning his helm he came face plate to face plate with a snarling femme with blurred red optics, re-cycling his optics twice Ratchet finally got a clear view of his surroundings, then the memories of how he got here fled in, Sigma, the ambush, Jawlock being a double agent, the trek to Kaon, everything came in such a fast succession he had to put his servos over his helm so he wouldn’t purge whatever was left in his tank, so next to nothing but dry heaving was never pleasant either.

“Are you even listening to me?” a voice asked with an irritated huff,

“I don’t think he is, Bomber please put him in a better position for civilized communication,” a different voice said

The next thing Ratchet knew was that he was being yanked violently to his pedes by his already awkwardly positioned shoulder plates, the cracking and searing pain was only increased due to the fact that the mech who grabbed his shoulders was now forcing them behind his in back stasis cuffs. Groaning Ratchet tried to focus on the face plate that was looking at him with an odd intensity,

“Come on he’s too far gone to eve register what we’re saying, to bad not everyone gets to see the gates open and live especially if it’s an Autobot.” The femme said which earned chuckles from the mechs around her also holding familiar mechs who he could place but had an achingly obvious features.

Something deep and primal urged him to run to forget the others, to get somewhere that was anywhere but here. That if he let himself fall into the dark oblivion of unconsciousness, there would be no going back. The horror stories he herd the new recruits talk about was becoming closer then what was comfortable to what might be his fate was now. Autobot prisoners of war dragged over the barren landscaped into gates of Kaon never to return as the same bot or never to return again, beaten, tortured, and abused . Sure all of these rumors came from the processors of young Autobots basically younglings who had forced from their homes, they wouldn’t know a thermal blast rifle from a cosmic shot gun Ironhide would say.

What they lacked in military training, they made up for with their adaptability to new situations and surroundings, having not been used to the luxuries of the Golden age, the war bred a new generation of intuitive, adaptable, quick thinking killers.

Even with the fact of growing up in a war torn planet and not knowing if any of them were going to survive until the next solar cycle they still maintained some of their childlike behavior, hence the rumors about the ‘big bad Decepticons’.

Through his haze and internal fuzzed and slightly off topic musing Ratchet could hear the faint conversation of somebot talking into an intercom, still resting his wait on his helm and knee plates Ratchet tried to get up to hear what was being said only to be shoved back down with a heavy pede on the base of his helm supports, no later did he hear the grinding of gears of strain of tension cables, until a final thunk of opened gates was herd.

“Welcome to Kaon medic your final destination.” The weight on his neck crushed down squeezing his intake close leaving him a gasping struggling pile of metal until the loss of energon was to much and once again Ratchet faded into the calling darkness once again unaware what was planned for him.


	4. Incoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron sends a message for Turmoil and his crew to return, a survivor brings crucial information.

He had to get, there to warn him, to warn everyone. The stabbing pain in his side was for the most part ignored along with the HUD warnings. Time seemed to slow down making the journey even further than it actually was, he felt like he was falling with every step. Miraculously to him pedes kept catching and moving him forwards stumbling along the hidden path nearing the exit which would leave home free and able to inform somebot of his revelations. Just as he made it to the ladder leading up to the court yard a wave tank churning nausea hit the injured bot making him lose his balance and land helm first into the ladder rung. Closing his optics to try and regain his bearings he heard several faint voices coming from above ground.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That noise, you know it sounded like something fell,”

Thinking that this could work his favour, he gathered his resolve and smashed his servo down on the rung of the ladder, ignoring the pain shooting up his arm.

“You see that noise!”

“I still didn’t hear anything are you sure you’re okay? I mean you have been asking the night shift more frequently and looking yourself up in your quarters, if you keep that up people will get suspicious.”

“Oh will you frag off, I’ll check it out myself!”

Hearing the pede steps come closer the bot ex-vented in relief, maybe now he could finally let his guard down. The sound of a hatch being lifted made him look up to the silhouetted figure that could be his potential savior.

“See anything?” a distant voice said.

“I think so give me a minute,” the figure said turning on hat seemed to be a head lamp, wincing at the bright light now shining in his optics all he could rely on was the frantic calling of the bot for a med team to let him know that he was indeed going to live or least if not the Autobots were going to get the information needed, and with that he finally let himself go and fall into the calling darkness.

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Leave no survivors, one escapee means the bigger chance that whole fleet of Autobots to show up and blow us to kingdom cum, when it comes down to it kill or be killed? Make a decision Deadlock, you’re a smart mech I’m sure you’ll make the right one.

Turmoil’s words rolled around in his helm as Deadlock cut down each Autobot he came across, it was the same routine every solar cycle, wake up refuel pillage. When Lord Megatron had first assigned him to this mission he thought that his talents would be able to help the Decepticon cause destroy the outer rim Autobot posts and get back to help win the main objective. Now after several lunar cycles they were no closer to getting back to Cybertron. With the new missions that came in with leveling difficulty and Turmoil’s mandatory detours to different planets to fulfill his thirst for the ‘Decepticon cause’.

Flipping and shooting a retreating Autobot, and hearing the impact and resulting cry of pain he was surprised when the gold and purple bot tried to get back up and start running again. Transforming after the bot Deadlock rammed into the medium sized bot snapping his back struts, turning back into route mode when the mech slid into the ground face first. Planning on finishing the job cocking his gun to the bot’s helm he could hear the gargling sound of seemed to be a plea for mercy.

It was almost laughable, how some bots could ask for mercy even though they watched as bots like him rotted in the gutters forced into prostitution, groveling like mech-animals at the base of their master’s pede, thinking that the situation could turn interesting and Deadlock decided to humor the pleading mech.

“Why should I spare you? Do you really find yourself that special, better than all the rest?” Deadlock asked into the bot’s audio receptor which he noticed was the crest of a Towers mech who originated from Crystal City. Before he let the bot respond he jumped in with his findings,

“Well I think I know why, looks like I’ve caught myself a Towers mech haven’t I?” feeling the bot stiffen beneath was all the indication he needed.

“What’s it to you? You Decepticons are all the same from before the war all you wanted was to disrupted the carefully constructed peace the hard working bots worked for, you’re all just under educated idiots with the notion that you can kill whoever and whenever you want, no matter the side.” The bot said while finishing with a coughing fit,

In the meantime Deadlock felt his temper shorten, “You think that we Decepticons wanted this, wanted a war? If you really are that blind then what’s the point into talking any sense to you, it would a waste of my time, it’s not like you would understand anyway. Always getting what you want no caring for the bots you step on and returning to several berth warmers, what a life that must have been.”

With that Deadlock sot a whole in the helm of the bot, the backlash of energon hitting him the face.

:Deadlock, were leaving. Finnish up what you’re doing and get back to the ship ASAP: Surprised at the message, and its meaning due to the fact that Turmoil enjoyed to drag out the raids on Autobots outposts, sending a quick message back Deadlock transformed and headed off in the direction of the Iron Gorge.

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Pulling up the now deserted Autobot post Deadlock saw Turmoil waiting for him just outside the main gate,

“Took you long enough, I expect more from my second in command, I hope Megatron did not chose you in vain.” Turmoil said as he turned to enter the large entrance hall,

“I was busy, and at least 10 clicks away, what’s the deal about calling me back so soon, I though you liked your men doing a throe job, Turmoil sir.”

Ignoring the blatant disrespectful use of his commanding title, Turmoil decided that he would give his insubordinate second in command a lesson in leadership later, in front of the whole crew. Right now he had bigger things to worry about than a mech who used to suck spike just to get another high from a booster, or whatever he could find.

“Megatron called, he wants us back on Cybertron now. Apparently something big has gone down in Kaon and we are needed there more than were needed here in the middle of fragging nowhere. Now as my second in command I want you to prep the ship and inform the rest of the crew, am I understood Deadlock?” Turmoil said only to find Deadlock already walking towards the command center.

Shaking his helm in exasperation, Turmoil headed back to his private quarters. It had been the same since they first met until now going back to Cybertron, their dislike for each other was mutual which made things less complicated relationship wise. It would be better for the crew to see their commanders working together in stony silence, but efficiently. Rather than one another trying to get the approval for their own piece of mind. On the Iron Gorge it was simple he would give an order and Deadlock may or may not follow it, as long as it didn’t frag anything to badly or ruin his fun he let Megatron’s lapdog do what he wanted, and it brought back pleasing results.

Opening his door he caught sight something or somebot cowering in a corner, activating his blaster and trained it on the figure he slowly walked over to it. Not taking any chances he activated his visor, the piece of equipment scanning the figure almost instantly. The bot was offline and of Cybertronian origins, the HUD informed him. Vitals slightly below optimal, in need of fuel, faction Autobot, breed Vosian seeker.

Smirking Turmoil turned on his lights with a mental command, and revealing a silver and green heavy mech seeker, the bot was bound with a thick energon wire. Putting his weapons in the containment unit beside his bed, Turmoil decided that he would have his fun with the Autobot later.

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After informing the crew of the news he had order the lower ranking engineers to get the ship in working order, he was above doing simple grunt work and Turmoil knew that, he probably only threw on him as a slap to the face plate. Walking through the corridors up to the deck where the commanding officers quarters were held, walking by he herd the pained cries of the newly caught Autobots.

If the Iron Gorge comes across an interesting outpost Turmoil would tell the crew to hold back, to let the Autobots think that they’ve one, to leave just enough alive. The when given the signal the crew is to render the rest of the survivors offline, after all bots have been brought back on to the ship and all valuable info is taken the base is blown up from a safe distance and the ship leaves.

The prisoners are then kept in pretty good condition until Turmoil gets bored or the ship reaches another planet but until then the crew is free to do whatever it pleases with some exceptions, Turmoil said that spark merging, and the spike and valves are off limits, Turmoil maybe a horrible bot with no mercy but he never showed in interest in raping his victims, neither did the rest of the crew even though some Decepticons did they were only a small part of the Decepticon cause while the rest knew what it was like to be forced to do something against their will, whether it was fighting or being a slave. Turmoil though it was low class, it was better to get info out than a sparkling of a prisoner, plus there was always the horror stories of Autobot and Decepticons alike booby trapping the interface equipment to avoid situations like that, killing themselves and their attackers in one go.

Henceforth the rule, that didn’t mean that there was no entertainment to get out of the captives, the crew always found a good laugh in humiliating the prisoners and making them wear small uncomfortable dancer outfits or put a lock on the panels and keeping their interface array exposed. The constant threat of pain was also a good way to keep hem inline to, but some of the crew liked to hack into the prisoners to find info or they liked to watch as the prisoners go at it, which usually led to them carry and then at the next planet they would drop off a bunch of ill armored carrying bots, or use them as hostages and barging chips.

Walking into his quarter and snapping the lights on, he to saw a cowering mech in the corner of his room. It was interesting; the group they ambushed all seemed to have the same crest on them. Doing a quick cross check apparently they had come across the Thundercloud clan native to Crystal City, they were known for their outdated look on femmes, said to keep the femmes at home and only as trophies. Pity though since the start of the war many femmes have turned out to be rather fierce warriors and excellent soldiers on both sides.

Sighing Deadlock strapped his guns to his shelves and settled down too tired to kick the bot out of his room, having no interest to even touch the bot or feed him. Knowing that he was a Towers mech Deadlock decided to let the bot suffer and know what it was like for him, and every other bot he stepped on for fun.

Rolling over onto his chest plate Deadlock propped his helm on his heavily modified arms, for some reason he had a sense of foreboding about going back to Cybertron, he knew he should have no doubt in his mind about going home, but he couldn’t shake a nagging feeling in the base of his fuel tank that would not leave him be, so for several more hours he lay tossing and turning the only sound other than the rustling of sheets and shifting metal was the slightly ragged intakes of his new ‘roommate’.


	5. Thoughts and Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadlock thinks about the choices he's made and a long forgotten past that still hovers in the distance, two lone survivors come to the realization that they have to carry on, and Ratchet , Jazz and First Aid find themselves in a very compromising situation.

Deadlock never really enjoyed sharing recharging spaces with other bots, it was too loud. This statement coming from a bot who had spent most of his life on streets sleeping in the alleyways of Rodion, but something about sleeping with other trained killers could make anyone nervous. Or it was the fact that Deadlock couldn’t really trust anybot to watch his back as he tried to get some recharge for a few hours, it was easier to get a decent sleep schedule if you found somebot you trusted enough. Deadlock had given that trust to somebot a long time ago, back when he was scourging the gutters for credits, but no bot here was Gasket, no bot would ever be Gasket. The calm compassionate bot that stuck with him was his rock through those dark times when no bot was there for him he always was, then when he was offlined Deadlock felt the desperate strands of his composer snap.

The only bot that had cared enough to stick with a junkie like was gone; he couldn’t have gone to Ratchet. The young doctor with spark of gold was needed elsewhere; apparently he was now working to stop the potential outbreak of the war, based on where he was now Deadlock thought that the good doctor’s efforts were in vain.

So with Gaskets energon cooling in the pool on the rugged ground Deadlock did the only thing he could, he picked up that gun and avenged those didn’t need to die. Thing is he was good at it, killing was better the boosting he felt in control, like something was finally going his way, he could make the choices for himself. Looking back on his choices he wondered if he ever met Ratchet again what would the good doctor think of him?

Would he be angered that he didn’t put his life to good use to make something good of himself, sure he made something of himself but it wasn’t exactly good. Would he be feared by the doctor knowing that he easily end his life with a quick shot other spark chamber and knowing that many of his comrades ended the same way?

Where ever he was Deadlock didn’t want to think too hard about it, anybot could die and he didn’t want to dwell on the thought of the broken frame of his ray of hope on those dark alley ways lying forgotten on the ravaged fields of Cybertron.

Now lying alone in his spacious quarters the only sound was his own vents just the way he liked it contemplating the opinion of a bot that saved him in another life, the bot in the corner had been rather silent as if they were too afraid to ex-vent, that if they did it would mean their off lining. After several hours more of tossing and turning Deadlock gave up on trying to recharge, he settled on cleaning his guns, he had just began to clean the last one when there was a knock on the door.

Pinging the door open to reveal Turmoil looking as tired as he felt, which was odd since he didn’t let his composer of professionalism fall especially in front of him.

“Deadlock were needed on the bridge Megatron requires our audience.” Turmoil said

Getting up to follow Turmoil and Deadlock walked in silence until they reached the main bridge, there on the main screen was Megatron waiting with a neutral expression.

“My Lord we are ready to receive your orders,” Turmoil said standing ramrod straight.

“I see, as you two know we no longer needed in the outer rim, as of now we need bots on Cybertron to defeat the Autobots. The Autobots have recently upped their offensive and forced Decepticon territory to shrink therefore we need your Team spread out team spread out to different quadrants over Cybertron while you and Deadlock will remain in Kaon directing the troops and defending the border, if the Autobots get Kaon the war is lost.”

“My lord what will happen to the ship and its equipment?” Turmoil asked

“It will be stored in Kaon and stripped of its parts until it is needed again,” Megatron said

“Understood my lord, we will be arriving in two solar cycles, is there anything else that we need to be aware of?” Turmoil asked

“Why yes there is, Jawlock and her team picked up some new Autobot ‘companions’ very important ones at that, make sure they feel the most comfort during their stay,” and with Megatron ended the transmission.

“We’ll inform the crew at 0600 hours, get some rest Deadlock I’ll see you in the morning.” Turmoil said as he walked away

Confused at the unprovoked yet kind gesture Deadlock just brushed it off as Turmoil not getting enough recharge.

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“Hey…. Ca….n….can………you……….hear me?.....Hey guys you should come see he’s coming around..”

Prying his optics open the mech was met with the blinding light of a whitewashed room, the light to bright for his non adjusted optics shot a bolt of pain straight through his processor, snapping up into a sitting position he tried to get to his pedes only to be pushed back down with the voices of frantic bots yelling fro restraints.

Struggling against the hands, he herd the voices in the background along with the wailing equipment, it was all too familiar to it. Words, images, memories all blurred together creating the nightmare he was running from, the wailing from the machines only became louder as he tried to get away from the servos holding him down. He wasn’t seeing the blue blurred optics of the medics only the cruel red energon thirsty optics.

He couldn’t breathe, to many servos one after another of his friends, his family being torn apart their cries of pain too much, begging him to help them, to do something. But he can’t the hands holding him down crushing the life out of him so he’s forced to watch. He just wants to die what use is he if he can’t even defend his friends, it was too much he looked up the con with his servos around his neck cables, letting go of one servo the con reached around to grab a wicked looking blade. He screamed as it made contact with his ruined chest plating.

“What’s going on here?!” He faintly herd through the ringing in his audios, he also realized in the back of his processor that there was nothing holding onto to him. Gathering whatever was left of his strength and made a dash for the exit, only to be picked up by a pair of strong servos and lifted up off the ground.

“Flicker….” He heard the voice whisper into his audio receptor

“Flicker relax you’re safe, we’re safe. If you keep struggling like that you’re going to hurt yourself, so take a deep breath and look at where you are.” The voice said, at the moment it was the only thing breaking through his fear induced haze, shaking his helm his optics finally readjusted to his surroundings. He now feels embarrassed at least fifteen other medics are surrounding them in a defensive position ready to jump into action and sedate both of them if they were going to a move that would injure themselves even further.

Relaxing into the grip of a bot that should be dead by many means he moved to lie back down on the padded med bay berth, looking up at the ceiling when he was being reconnected, feeling slightly guilty for the fact when he ripped the cords out, it was a pain to put them back in and could damage the machines as well, something the Autobots couldn’t afford.

Once the commotion settled both him and Woodgrinder were both tilted up to be at least a least in view of a very unamused medic, said medic looked like he was about to launch a tirade of slurs until a very tall copper plated femme marched in. 

“Shaque if you’re about to do what I think you are stop there is no need to scold patients suffering from PTSD, we’ve had planet of patients react the way he just did. Yes I know the other one was instructed to stay still, but if he hadn’t jumped in when he did it would have ended a lot worse than it did. No equipment was damaged and no one was injured, so scat you are no longer needed, there are med berths that need washing….Don’t give me that look mechling you know that it’s harder to get dried energon of then fresh energon, and its something that needs to be done, just because you finished a university degree doesn’t mean it excuses you from grunt work.”

With a grunt the matte cherry red mech stomped out of what seemed to be a twelve bot ICU room, looking more closely he could see other bots at the other ends of the wall either unconscious or looking at him with interest. His attention was snapped back to the femme once she started talking.

“I apologise for my apprentice’s behavior he still expects patients who have suffered traumatic events to lie still once they come out of stasis lock, anyhow since your arrival was rather unorthodox Optimus Prime himself and his commanding officers will want to speak with you later. Until then you will kept here under my care, then once you are if for duty physically you will stay in Iacon then either stay to work here or move to another Autobot city.”

Looking at the tall femme both mechs nodded their understanding,

“Now where are my manners, I’m the head medic in the ICU based in Iacon, Uplink it’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. Now get some rest we have quite a recovery in front of us.” With that she strode out the door leaving the two mechs alone, a heavy silence fell over the room only to be broken when Flicker asked the question they had both been dreading.

“I guess that we’re the only ones huh?” 

“Flicker…..Yeah we’re the only survivors of Sigma, those cons we efficient when they w we’re going through the frames to make sure everybot was offline.” Woodgrinder said not wanting to sugar coat where they were standing.

“Well I’m glad I’m not alone in this, but how did you escape I thought I saw a con but a bolt through your helm.” Flicker asked

Turning his helm to show the patched up damage on one half of his helm, “I though the same for you I guess the cons are getting sloppy,” Woodgrinder said with a smirk trying to lighten the mood noticing Flicker’s wince

“Hey we’ll get through this together and get our Autobots back, no matter what.” Flicker nodded in agreement with that statement.

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Several hundred kilometers away another bot is waking from an injured only to receive the complete opposite setting.

Jerking awake with a gasp, Ratchet instantly went for his battle protocols only to find them unavailable. Thrashing in mid-air as the whip lash of unanswered HUD updates, body modification, and highly attuned pain receptors. He dimly herd his name being called, through the haze of pain

“Ratch, ya gotta relax mah mech you’re gonna hurt yourself even more” was yelled from somewhere on his right, taking the advice Ratchet ceased his struggling and took in his surroundings.

Letting his optics adjust to the dim to non-existent light of seemed to be a fairly large jail cell, with Decepticon written all over it. Looking to where the voice came from he saw Jazz looking worse for wear with a botched patch job, it seemed as if the medic just found rusted plating and haphazardly welded to his plating. It wouldn’t surprise if that actually happened, looking around some more spotted First Aid across the room chained to the wall spread out in a star pattern, while Jazz seemed to be held up his pedes a heavy weight nailed to the ground kept him from moving his hands.

Struggling in his own bonds Ratchet realized that his arms were spread apart by tight chains on either wall, and his pedes kept immobilized by being wedged in axeliack* compound. Realizing that struggling would only damage him more he decided to get some info on where they were exactly.

“Any clue of where we are?” Ratchet asked in a low whisper

“Somewhere in Kaon I’m guessing, the only question is where Kaon is a big place we could beh anywhere,” Jazz replied 

“You’re in the belly of the beasts Autobots, not a good location from your standing point,” a shadowed con said from behind the elctrobars.

Looking at the con they realized the bot talking to them was Vortex,

“Now, if it had been my say you wouldn’t even be online, you would be smelting in the pits where you belong but alas Megatron wants an audience with you two,” he said pointing to Jazz and Ratchet

“In the meantime the little medic and I will have a little play time, now doesn’t that sound fun?” First Aid, who remained silent since Ratchet’s awakening, flinched away from the leering look of the sadistic con.

“But you two have somewhere to be, chop chop!” Vortex said as Drag Strip, and Motormaster came to haul them out of their bindings, the thick sludge slurping when Ratchet was pulled out as if it was trying to pull him back encase him from harm, the next thing he knew was the rattle of falling chains and being forced onto his pedes in a brisk march towards a large round room, with an equally large clear glass elevator shaft.

Being shoved into it with Jazz not far behind, the four were shot up from the Decepticon brig to the floor just above the main landing strip, a throne room of sorts in the highest part of the building, where group meetings were held, and where Megatron could see everything all at once.

After the lift stopped they were shove out and forced to kneel in front of said Warlord, looking up to glare at him Ratchet’s helm was forced back down. His face plate being crushed into the ground, his back curved so his neck cables wouldn’t fell as much strain, thinking he made quite the site with his aft in the air he was internally glad that no one was behind him.

“Thank you, Drag strip, Motormaster you may leave.” Megatron said with a smirk, and with that they two cans left the empty throne room so their lord could do to the Autobots as he wished.Their fates would be announced later in the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Axeliack is a made up substance by me, basically its a thick gooey liquid that can harden and become almost indestructible once it fully hardens and solidifies around a solid object. When it does it can still have jelly like texture so if a bot gets stuck in it and start thrashing the will start sinking giving Axeliack more solid object to solidify around, it can mold to any shape, and the only way for it to liquefy is it to zapped by a strong electric pulse, but then it will re harden in the next 3 min if the solid object doesn't move, Axeliack likes to solidify around warm living objects, so it can absorb some of the heat, making the thing weaker and die, then the thing is broken down and used so that the Axeliack can evolve, basically it can be classified as a living thing but is not really alive, it is a known substance from the south east of the Cybertronian ridges, it can be used to contain, protect and transport, since the start of the war Axeliack has become more popular for war material its cheap to get, can be replicated, and lasts a very long time


	6. Modification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet and Jazz are held at the mercy of Knock out and Hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically this chapter explains who i think the chest plates on a Cybertronian works, its just my own little idea. Feel free to comment I gotta know if I'm doing a good job

The flawless, smooth metal floor was cool underneath Ratchet’s knee spikes sending a shiver up his malnourished frame. Flicking his optics to his left where Jazz physically strained to remain on his knees, the spy was in a more drastic condition he was. The drugs given to keep him docile had taken its toll on the second in command, invading his system the drugs reacted rather violently to his modified systems creating inner turmoil. The conflicting inner problems making his frame go into overdrive trying to keep his frame, he was pretty the warlord could hear the strained cooling fans and no doubt did he enjoy every moment where the spy tried to keep from falling into over worked stasis.

For several clicks the warlord just sat on his overdone throne and stared at them, probably thinking about their demise. It was no secret that they were both disliked, not for common reasons like brutality, no mercy, random killings, and assault on neutrals. They were disliked for their skill, the rumors spread about them didn’t exactly help with their public image, Jazz was known as the deadly spy who could hack into anybot and get out of any base undetected. Those who came across him in battle were never seen again, now Ratchet was known as the med bay terror with sharp accurate aim, who nail someone across the battlefield. A fearless medic who looked death in the eye and spat in its face plates.

They were both feared in their own right and ways, and were by no chance innocent but they did try to work towards peace, when they could. The Decepticons hated the same reason the younger Autobots hated the Decepticons, propaganda. Spreading lies and conspiracies about the commanding officers on both sides, the older officers only had the true reason for hating them and that was years after fighting each other, finding each other’s weakness, strengths, and becoming solid enemies for what the others did and their morals in the war.

So there they were products of war awaiting to see if they remained online and tortured for information, or were executed as a moral boost for the troops, either one was the likely outcome 

“A little spy told me that two high ranking Autobots were going on an off base mission, and what do you know they end up choosing that spy to come along with them. The irony must have been shocking, now tell me Autobots how does it feel to be betrayed, hurts doesn’t it? Megatron said with a smirk.

“Megatron if you’re going to offline it spare the dramatics, you know and we know that we’re not rookies to the art of war. We’ve been in brigs and interrogation rooms before, so for all of our sakes try to act like you’re not scarring the scrap out of a rookie, because it’s not going to work.” Ratchet said with an internal roll of his optics,

Turning his optics to regard Prime’s medic, after a few moments of evaluating the damaged mech with a blank expression he smirked which soon turned into a low rumbling laugh.

“I see, so war really has change mechs. I remember when you couldn’t even focus with me in the same room; now look at you I guess the medic who spits in death’s face is true.”

“Don’t flatter yourself Megatron you may be a warlord but you are far from a force of life.” Ratchet said in a mocking tone knowing that it would push the warlord closer to the edge.

Standing with speed impossible for his size model, Megatron strode over to where Ratchet was kneeling

“You must think you’re real smart, medic.” Megatron said picking the medic by his collar assembly. 

“I like to think so,” Ratchet replied wincing as the grip tightened

“Well let’s see how smart you feel after a bit of persuasion, from our medical staff.” Megatron said with a smirking, standing up wand walking back to his throne he made a call the confirmed what Ratchet thought about his Jazz’s fate.

“Hook could you come up and bring our esteemed guests to the med bay for a tuning, I will explain later in detail we don’t want the surprise to be ruined now don’t we?” With that Megatron closed the line and waited for the hum of an arriving elevator lift, he was not left waiting too long. Hook as well as Knock out came into the room both carrying stasis cuffs and hover berths, wasting no time Megatron watched them move an unresisting Jazz and a protesting Ratchet onto the berths. Hearing the curses from the fiery tempered medic all the while until both Decepticon medics had left the throne room.

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Waking up in a Decepticon med was rather perplexing, unless a) the cons decided to recruit new cons by fixing and forcing damaged Autobots to fight for them b) The war was won and the factions were no more or c) the cons wanted him to be coherent when they tortured him for information.

Jazz was betting on the third option, onlining his motion sensors so no bot near would see his visor online. Going through the room he noticed that there seemed to be only one other frame in the room, judging by the very angry EM field that was brushing against his it wasn’t hard to tell who it was.

“Ratch’?” he asked to the frame beside

“Jazz? Good you’re awake, don’t worry you can turn your visor we’re alone, but brace yourself the cons made a few modifications on us for their entertainment,” Ratchet said in a dry tone

Turning his optical feed he had to bit his derma from dropping open, modifications was a vast understatement. The cons had completely stripped Ratchet of his armor leaving the matte silver protoform, overlapping protoform to stand alone without any protection. The doctor was a much slimmer model than his armor made his appear he had the curves of a could be dancer, letting his optics observe further down the now bare frame he could see that the cons decided to replace the sturdy red panel with a thin flimsy one, which was almost see through but still held a tint of red. Now looking at his pedes Jazz had to keep in an ex-vent of humor, only Knock out would replace a mech’s pedes with heels, and by the look on the CMO Jazz guessed that he was furious about his new appearance.

“If you think this funny, then you should look at yourself,” Ratchet mumbled clearly trying to hide is embarrassment

Looking down at himself Jazz felt the energon run to his faceplate making them heat, he too just a bare as Ratchet, his lavender spark sending light through the gaps. When he turned over to get up only to be stopped by the distant murmuring of voices and stomp of pede steps did he resume is unmoving position. Keeping still so he could gather any info Ratchet could get out of them. Calming his systems, Jazz was a master of altering his systems to remain almost completely silent; pretending to be in stasis was sparking play. It only didn’t work if they had a trained medic with them to scan to him to see if he was actually in stasis, and by then they would be close enough to strike and he would be long gone, with the info needed.

The hiss of an automatic door opening as the only warning he received before Knock out along with Hook walked in, carrying a create of something behind them.

“Alright medic we can do this the easy way or the hard way, it’s your choice.” Hook said

“I prefer the way where my pede is lodged hallway to your carrying chamber!” was the gruff reply

“Hard way it is, shame really I thought those with sea foam green sparks were supposed to be gentle and kind,” Knock out said in mock hurt

“I guess it skipped a generation.” Ratchet replied

“Oh well it’s not going to affect us as long as you put a good show on,” Hook said that was accompanied by the lock of restraints and the struggling that was instantaneous.

The clatter of metal and a smaller hiss of create opening,

“Oh slag no you are not putting that on me, over my offline frame,” Ratchet said as the sound of struggling only increased cursing at their captures all the while as they approached with the mystery object.

The click of an engaging mag lock, and a small whimper let Jazz know that whatever was in that create was securely on Ratchet’s frame.

“Make sure we get the other one too, Megatron said he wanted both.” Knock out said, before Jazz could jump up and attack the two medics, the berth restraints clamped down on him when he made the first move to jump off.

“Well, well you were awake; I guess it would be easier to put this on when we don’t need to move him manually.” Knock out said as he brought the create over to him, his optics widening in understanding as he glanced over in the curled up form of Ratchet on the berth next to him, obviously hiding his spark and carrying chamber from view. So this is what Megatron had planned for them, public humiliation enough so that it would break their spirits to a point of spilling Intel.

It’s been done before a type of psychological torture that didn’t require much effort that more sadistic cons liked if they were feeling like something more publicly entertaining. The thing about armor is that it created a heavily protected chamber to store the spark chamber that incorporated the thick chest protoform, so when chest plates were opened the protoform would be pulled back as well. If a chest piece didn’t have the needed plates to keep the spark hidden from view, say a see through plate the protoform would believe the spark is protected and would recede. This trick is harder when using a plate less chest piece, in this case if you want to use hooks on the inside of the plate that hook onto the chest protoform forcefully pulling them apart, showing the spark and parts of the carrying chamber whether the bot in question wants it shown or not.

Struggling and trying to twist away, it was in vain as the shiny white gold, with red and blue streaks or colour was placed on him. Feeling the painful stretched of locked protoform until his sprk was completely visible. Looking over to see Ratchet still in the same position, he noticed that Ratchet’s new chest plate was a nice metallic rose colour with silver streaks, both his and Ratchet’s chest plates were rather shimmery, one would say it was over the top but shimmery plating was a clear label for a prostitute.

“I do believe their ready, why don’t we call down lord Megatron for…Inspection?” Knock out said with a smirk leering at the curled up Autobots

“I do believe an inspection in order before our performers are put on stage~.” Hook replied turning to activate his comms.

“Now don’t be shy, let’s get a good look at you two,” Knock out said flipping a switch,

Both Ratchet and Jazz felt the restraints on the ankles and wrists tighten to the point until they were splayed out on the berth struggling like helpless sparklings. No later did Megatron come strolling in like he had just won the war, stopping behind Hook and Knock out to observe their work on the Autobot frames he was very pleased with the result. The only armor left on both frames were flimsy opaque interface panels, which matched in colour with their plate less chest piece showing both sparks and the top half of their carrying chambers. They were both sights to be hold, neither of them were ugly at all, and this would make for some very interesting black mail, knowing that their sparks and carrying chambers were under constant threat they would remain docile and put up little resistance.

“Excellent work you two, but I do believe that they are missing something. Do you remember what the prostitutes in Kaon would wear on their protoform?” Megatron asked

“Wouldn’t they wear that sparkly dust that glowed to attract willing customers, oh yes they would also remove the back part of their panels so passer byes would get a better view. Yes I see where you going with this Lord Megatron and I completely agree with you.” Hook said with a growing smirk while Knock out looked rather confused.

“Come along Knock out I shall explain while we get the supplies,” Hook said to the younger bot as they walked into the storage containment center.

Not wanting to ruin the surprise Megatron left for the central comm system built into the side of the med bay wall, he had a very important announcement to make.


	7. Touch Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet and Jazz are put on display while the Iron Gorge finally arrives at Cyberttron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little side note: I don't own anything other than the plot, my own imagination, and the OCs that you see.

“Attention, this is Lord Megatron speaking.” The booming voice rang over the AP speakers placed in the main Decepticon Tower in Kaon, traveling at a wavelength so it wouldn’t be heard outside the walls of the fortress.

“As most of you know we have two very esteemed guests with us, courtesy of Jawlock and team. Now as of late we decided for all the trouble these two have caused us, that they would put on a show little show for, the main entrance was looking a bit drab so to brighten it up our guest agreed to be our decoration.” With that Megatron finished his announcement to the Decepticon soldiers, grinning with a mad glee when he saw the shocked expressions on the fact that not only were they forced to dress like flashy prostitutes who roamed around in Kaon during the Golden age, but every soldier who was in the base at the moment had been informed that they would be in the front entrance for anybot to see.

Making his leave once Hook and Knock Out came into the med bay holding an armful of supplies each and both wearing matching grins.

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This was one of the most humiliating things that he has experienced in his life cycle so far, which was quite the stretch Ratchet wasn’t young per say he had his fair share of humiliating events happen through university, earning his name as a doctor and his place in the Senatorial rings. This by far out did any prank or slip up in speech, as Megatron the slagger left after giving his message over the PA system Ratchet knew the fates were sealed there was no way they were getting out of this one.

Seeing Hook come over to his berth, Ratchet glared at him. As if the raw hate in his optics would dissuade Hook from putting any of that him, alas the Con didn’t even falter the grin on his derma only growing wider if that was possible based on how big it was now. 

“Now don’t be like that Ratchet, picture it for the greater good,” Hook said

“Greater good my aft, if you put that stuff on me I’ll make you regret ever emerging from your carrier or crawling from where ever you came from,” Ratchet said,

“Now that wasn’t very nice, hey Knock out you’re good with this colour scheme thing. Which colour should I use on acid optics over here?” Hook asked turning his helm to ask said mech as he was applying red and blue shimmer dust on the sides of the spy’s legs, arms and face plates in intricate patterns. Turning to regard Ratchet on the berth next to him,

“I would do a colour that doesn’t clash horribly with the shade of red, try gold and black. Use the stencils that wrap around their easier to use and look good when two colours are used together.” Knock out said turning back to his own work.

Picking up a scaled patterned stencil and sticking on the designated protoform, engaging with the mag lock so the captives could shake free and ruin the art. They couldn’t have smudged performers now, not when bots were counting on a job well done.

Ratchet closed his optics hoping that doing that he could picture something else, like something that wasn’t sharp tipped digits spreading, warm but fast cooling shimmer dust on his sensitive unarmoured inner thighs. Somewhere that wasn’t here; whimpering and squirming away from those digits he felt a heavy weight on his abdomen crushing the air out of his intakes from the sudden impact.

“Would you keep still you big sparkling, I’m almost done.” Huffed an amused but slightly frustrated Hook, sure it was fun to watch the Autobot squirm and whimper at his mercy but being the perfectionist he is, he didn’t want the bots squirming ruin his work.

After what felt like several more solar cycles of the loathed touch Hook finally got off his exposed abdomen, taking in a shuttering in-vent Ratchet turned his helm to see what the con did. Seeing the swirling black and gold pattern Ratchet groaned when he saw where it led, both pattern arrays started from the palms of his servos and the base of his shin and head towards both his array and opened chest plates, causing for more attention to come to those areas.

Now for the final touch,~” Hook chime as he picked up a small pry bar, kneeling between Ratchet’s legs he hoisted his hips up and proceeded to unfasten the clasps holding the back and bottom of his interface panel. Once it was loose enough to Hook’s satisfaction he simply ripped it off the rest of the way, not enough force to damage but enough for it to be painful and shocking.

Ratchet yelped there was nothing worse than having your panel torn off by force, the delicate wiring and gears not made to be strong when it came to the motion of the panel due to its thickness.

“You done Knock out?” Hook asked, which was replied with a similar pained yelp. Knock out turned discarding the back and bottom of Jazz’s panel.

“I do believe your work here is done, now all there’s left to do is get them in the show cases.” Hook said as he pressed a button and two large see through cylinders came to hover just above the med bay floors. No sooner both Ratchet and Jazz were hoisted by the restraints and shoved into the cylinders, once they were inside the seamless door closed behind them separated by the glace walls. Jazz feeling the walls for more weak spot to break through received a volt of electric charge to zap through him throwing him backwards barely catching himself before crashing into the sizzling wall behind him, since the space was limited both Ratchet and Jazz could feel the hum of and electric discharge resonating from the dark steel beneath their pedes.

“There will be no escaping from the show cases unless we say so Autobot, fun fact these were used as execution chambers in the Golden age,” Hook said, pressing a button on the small remote. Both bots heard a hiss and the sound of metal folding down, a black metal shutter folded down encasing the glass segment by segment. The golden orange sunrise over Kaon’s city scape coming through the window wall that bounced around the reconstruction bay Ratchet now realized, was being shut out by the cold, controlling shutter.

“Nighty, night Autobot we shall see you on stage,” was the muffled voice of Knock out, confused at such words it only occurred to Ratchet when started to feel rather drowsy. The tank was rigged to release a silent, tasteless, soundless, and non-visible potent knock out gas. Dropping to his knee spikes, Ratchet put his down on the warm base of the cylinder trying to remain on all fours, focusing on not losing consciousness. It was a losing in battle Ratchet knew once he felt his arms give out, only distantly feeling the impact of the base to his face plates. 

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Cybertron was finally in view, after several days of flying in the war torn planet’s direction Turmoil had become restless a bot could almost say anxious. No bot could blame him, he was the one who would take the punishment if their results didn’t meet up to Megatron’s standards, the Warlord did not like failure and didn’t take excuses either. Either you got the job done or face the consequences, Deadlock didn’t particularly like Turmoil but he wasn’t incompetent Megatron put him in charge of the Iron Gorge for a reason. He didn’t see to stress himself out, whenever he tried to approach him about it he was hot a glare and was told to ‘frag of gutters mech’. It was fine with Deadlock if Turmoil wanted to work himself into stasis it would be better for the both of them, but everyone has their limits.

Just a few jour ago Deadlock had found Turmoil slumped over the controls, consciously sending the ship into a nose dive into a star they were passing. Deadlock didn’t exactly find Turmoil but was actually throne forwards and into the bridge door when Turmoil finally bit the dust. Deadlock then decided a few hours of drugged stasis would do him good, putting the ship on auto polite was easy enough it wasn’t a big ship. The Iron Gorge was a pretty standard ship mass manufactured during the early years of the war when they still had the supplies to do that sort of thing, the only way to do to that now was go off world and wait several lunar cycles. Since Turmoil has been in charge of the ship it had received some major upgrades to make it less out of date, the hissing of the bridge doors alerted Deadlock that he was no longer alone on the command deck

“Deadlock sir, captain Turmoil as awoken from his drug induced stasis, what is our next course of action?” The brightly painted rookie asked when Deadlock turned to regard him,

“Take a break kid you deserve it, I’ll take care of Turmoil for now. Make sure to comm me immediately when the computer informs us about entering Cybertron flight space, both Autobot and Decepticons have space blockades set up here even now.” Deadlock said as he left the bridge,

He liked the kid, grew up in the gutters to. Never had a nice paint job which is why insists that he keep his Decepticon one flawless, a little eager but still a good kid. Deadlock hoped that the kid survived the war and went on to create equality no matter who won the war.

Walking towards the med bay, he braced himself for any incoming deadly objects. Opening the door he saw Turmoil trying to sit up groaning and rubbing his helm, only to fall backwards against the berth when the input of updates was too much. Sighing and striding over to the berth, Deadlock stretched out an open servo thinking it would be brushed away with another slew of insults Deadlock was surprised when Turmoil grabbed onto and proceeded to slowly get up leaning heavily on Deadlock.

“What happened since I was out?” Turmoil asked

“We almost crashed into a star when you went into stasis, and since then we have reached Cybertron.” Deadlock said,

“How much farther until we touch down?” Turmoil asked again

“3 jour give or take depends if they let us threw.” Deadlock replied

“Figures, I’ll send the encrypted code beforehand so we don’t have to deal with that entry slag.” Turmoil mumbled

Walking down to the bridge, Deadlock nodded to the kid as a dismissal. Cybertron was getting really close now, Turmoil started typing the code. Sending the code Turmoil grunted in satisfaction when a massive ship came into view brandishing the symbol of the Decepticons.

“Welcome back Iron Gorge, I’m guessing you trip was successful? Megatron wants you to dock in Kaon central hanger bay 45-HYT-09W,” a robotic voice said over the AP speaker in the ship. The ship lowered and oddly shaped semi-circle until the frame glowed a blue green, and an instant later a space bridge was formed. Heading towards the Space Bridge Turmoil responded the big ship so that it could confirm that they received the message.

“Thanks Alpha, I’ll send Megatron your regards.” Turmoil said before entering the space bridge, the massive living ship then closed the bridge.

Reappearing with a hum of the Space Bridge the Iron Gorge slowed down drastically in the heavily magnetized underground docking bay, floating over to their designated docking bay massive clamps hooked onto the ship to keep it stable as the magnetism disengaged dropping the ship on its landing gear onto to the sliding platform. Said sliding platform moved the ship into a garage like storage unit where it was unloaded and refuelled, and where it would stay unless it was needed.

The crew stepping off to head towards the decontamination rooms, then off to the briefing room.

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The decontamination rooms were never fun, it was mandatory when coming back from an off world mission. No bot wanted to bring a deadly disease back from their travels, or something that could impregnate a whole base and use the bots on base as breeding vessels. Those thoughts kept bots from not skipping the decontamination room, on both sides.

Deadlock was pushed against the chain-link fence as he was blasted with a high pressure hose, strong enough to get any contaminants out of the protoform. When going through decontamination you have to remove everything down to your interface panel so the drones can deal with it with a lighter touch, no bot like broken armor or weaponry. It was still not a fun thing to do, the orange acid stained for jours later and smelled like and odd off world planet that Deadlock vaguely remembered visiting.

After that it was off to the briefing room for Deadlock and Turmoil, while the rest of the crew were shown their sleeping arrangements until being sent off again. This cycle seemed off, where was the bustling soldiers? The halls seemed eerily quiet, deciding to get to the bottom of this both Turmoil and Deadlock walked around exploring different rooms to see where all the station Kaon soldiers could be. Several clicks later they gave up on their search and decided to meet up with Lord Megatron and ask him the wanted questions.

Arriving to the main ground of the Decpticon fortress, a large courtyard area surrounded by high electric walls and an invisible force field. What was surprising was the amount of soldiers, shouting and catcalling at the front entrance. Confused Deadlock grabbed the nearest con, a deep burgundy femme.

“What’s going on here?” Deadlock asked

“Didn’t you here? Megatron is making the two new Autobot captives out new door stoppers and there’s nothing they can do about it” the femme cackled running off once Deadlock’s grip loosened, pushing towards the front of the mob Deadlock squeezed his way through a pair of cons at the front blocking his view. Stumbling after using so much force Deadlock took a moment to regain his balance, once he did he choked on his own intake when he saw who one of the esteemed guests were.


	8. Reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, this past month has been crazy hectic and it's only going to get worse. I'll keep a steady update for as long as I can i have a bunch of other series that I am working on which I'm supper excited for. :D

Waking up to the roar of several shouting bots was never pleasant, not matter who the voice belonged to or what it was saying. Lifting his head Ratchet was going to snap at whoever was making such a racket, when a sense of dread washed over him. If he was in recharge, why didn’t he feel the military berth underneath him? The firm and non-lavish berth but was nothing to stare at but did its job well enough, and after several hundred years of use it still hadn’t warn out.

So where was his treasured berth? The hum of a close intense electrical charge urged him to crack his optics open, he immediately regretted it. The smell of remaining gas that was probably the cause of him going off line in the first place registered and cross-referenced on his HUD, the gas was of Decepticon origin, which explained the sudden lack of memory when resurfacing to consciousness. The certain brand of knock out gas favoured by the cons wipes the victim’s memory from the moment of unconsciousness to as far back as 4 solar cycles, it was designed to keep volatile prisoners calm when resurfacing or it was meant to keep traumatically injured patient from going into shock the moment they woke up from being in stasis.

Waiting for his optics to readjust to the bright light shining in his faceplates he was greeted with several hundred glowing red optics staring right back at him, jerking in his bonds which he now noticed held him in a very compromised position. His first instinct was to try to squirm into a less revealing position where the cons weren’t gawking at his exposed valve, grunting with excursion only managing to writher in his bonds causing a larger cheering to rumble through the crowd.

The crowd slowly being unveiled the dark red mist pulling back over the pale pink letting the two suns of Cybertron light up the pale pink sky, the shadowy cloak now gone Ratchet could now see how much trouble he had really gotten himself into.

The hooting and hollering didn’t exactly him get his thoughts organized, turning his helm to see his surroundings. Noticing that he seemed to be in some type of courtyard, storing the data way for later he started looking for his missing companion. Spotting a similar tube shaped holding device Ratchet tried to lift himself into a better viewing position which only tilted his hips forwards, which instantly got several more leers and more than enough lustful EM fields that could last him a life time. Seeing his companion in a similar position Ratchet gave up the plan of ever getting out of here before the cons thought so, trying the relax into his bonds the best he could and attempting to ignore the constant optics on his valve and spark. The shimmery pattern reflecting in the glow of the twin suns, sparkling against the nearest con’s armor.

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While the two new captives adjusted to their new settings Turmoil had shoved his way through the crowd towards the main entrance, it was easy enough being the size he is to shove the less heavy duty frames out of the way. Walking past the exposed Autobots he headed through the main hall, coming to the lift with a frown Turmoil looked back down the main hall at the large decorated sliding doors. Before heading threw the doors he had caught a glimpse of his second in command, Deadlock hadn’t looked upon the Autobots in disgust like the usual treatment he would give, but rather he looked at the red bot like a bot who was craving another high from a booster.

Shaking it off as shock, it wasn’t every cycle that bots like him could mock those who had stepped on him in the past. No matter how hard he tried Turmoil could not shake the sense of foreboding that clung on to him like jellied energon. Schooling his features Turmoil prepared his report for Megatron, the faster he could get this done the sooner could interrogate the new guests that had arrived with them.

The rid up to the large circular throne room a level just above the landing platform was a smooth one; there was not a cloud in sight. The pink hues turning into an indigo, the twin suns casting green and orange light across the sky. It would have been a beautiful sight for the ages; the only thing that made it better for Turmoil was the black smoke in the horizon. Most Cybertronians would be devastated about the ruin their planet has endured, while Turmoil had never felt a strong connection to their planet sure it was where he was sparked but that didn’t mean anything to him. The twisting black cloud only mean that the Autobots got what was coming to them, while Kaon remained somewhat in good repair.

While there were little to no civilians left in Kaon or in Iacon due to the threat of being bombed out, it didn’t take away the joy Turmoil felt when he saw the towers of Praxus go up in flame. The seekers did one pit of an efficient job when they were assigned the mission. The lift was in the center of the main tower seemingly hidden from view from the thick metal walls; some would be nervous going up the lift. Being completely defenseless is rather unnerving during a war, since Megatron’s throne room and command deck was on the highest level it became more an even bigger issue. Shockwave being the bot he is forethought about this problem and incredibly came up with a solution, design the outer to be a one way mirror. The bot in the lift has a full 360 view while traveling in the lift; it uses an optical technology so the floor and internal structure of the bulling doesn’t block the view. With this a bot at any time can see all of Kaon, it is quite the experience and has saved many bots in the meantime with an emergency escape shoot.

The ding of the built in speaker informed him that he had arrived to his destination, straightening up Turmoil marched into the throne room where he saw Megatron looking out of the large curved window behind his throne. Looking around some more he spotted Soundwave slightly hidden by the shadows his dark armor blending with the dark walls and limited lighting, it was quite the contrast from the brightly tri-coloured seeker standing and moodily glaring at the throne.

Taking a kneeling position until acknowledged,

“Stand Turmoil, there is no need for that here. You are higher than kneeling like a low grunt,” Megatron said as he turned from the window.

“Of course my lord,” Turmoil said while standing to face the Decepticon leader.

“Now we both know why you’re here so let’s skip the formalities and get right down to business, shall we?” Megatron asked

Turmoil nodded in agreement and saw out the corner of his optic that Soundwave had pulled out a datapad to record the meetings events.

“Give the report from the hangar bay it seemed like your mission was successful?” Megatron asked

“I believe it was my lord we managed to take over four different Autobot bases in the outer rim with only minor injuries to the crew, we had a small encounter with off world pirates but had dealt with them with no major loses in cargo.” Turmoil finished content with the slight upwards turn of Megatron’s derma.

“That is good to hear, we have had issues with pirates both Cybertronian and not trying to make a few quick bucks by selling us our own equipment. We will have to deal with them later or make an arrangement, speaking of arrangements Turmoil how was Deadlock?” Megatron asked

Scowling behind his mask and narrowing his optics behind the protection of his visor Turmoil forced himself to remain professional; there were many words he could use to describe his second in command. The thought of saying them made him crush that thought like a steal energon goodie, everyone knew that Deadlock was a favourite in Megatron’s optics, handpicked and named from the gutters he came from. Megatron wanted a soldier who wanted vengeance for the suffering the higher ups had caused him, a soldier who knew what it was like to live in the lower caste intimately. His skill was widely known he was the perfect killing machine; there was no need to anger Megatron by insulting one of his pets.

“He was sufficient and actively did his job on the ship, he was efficient when raiding the bases and led the men well, he was fair but firm in his punishments.” Turmoil reported in a neutral voice.

“Excellent, that is all Turmoil send Deadlock up when you find him I need a word with him.” Megatron said returning to his position at the window

Clenching his servos “Of course my Lord I will send him up when I can,” he said in a clipped tone, then proceeded to find his wayward second in command.

00000000000000000000000000000000

Jawlock paced back and forth in her quarters on the command deck as she rethought the events of the past few jours, when she returned to the base she and her team are forced right into decontamination, then right after they’re sent to the briefing room and sent back to the quarters. It was pretty routine; the only thin lacking was the after mission orders to either stay in base to rest or move to a different part of the city to receive another set of orders. Jawlock wished she could get something to occupy her time with, she pondered about going down to the brig and joining Vortex until she remembered that he was away on a joint mission with rest of his brothers.

Scowling she flopped face down on her berth, with a few clicks of what later she deny of sulking she had gotten a message in her receiver. Opening it up she let a feral grin spread across her face plates.

00000000000000000000000000000000

After receiving the clipped message from Turmoil, Deadlock walked along the dark coloured corridor from the mid-level quarters for the more skilled soldiers, after seeing the display that was still in the courtyard Deadlock after a few clicks of slack jawed observation he saw the facial expression of the shiny red mech. When he got a full view of his face plates he suddenly realized who he was looking at and a deep primal hunger to make the mech his arose, it was stronger than any feeling he’s had in a long time.

It was a long time ago when they first met in the first place; he had taken too much booster and was found high off his aft by an enforcer. Apparently said enforcer had some kindness in his spark and instead of being thrown in a local detention center where he would be forced to endure a brutal rehab where most drug addicts’ offlined due to the sudden shock and lack of proper care for a delicate situation. Addicts who try quitting need to be put on intense watch so the need for another high doesn’t break their resolve. Instead of throwing into where Deadlock thought would his last place that he would found online in, he was picked up and carried gently to seemingly new clinic that he’d never seen before. Walking in without a hint of hesitation the enforcer walked right through the waiting area and into the med-bay set and placed him on one of the berths like he owned the place.

The rest of the memory was rather glitched due to his drugged state, but what he did catch after being placed on the berth was the deep baritone coming from the blue and red enforcer talking with a sharper bark, later he awoke with a mostly whit bot with red accents and a black chevron. The bot had his helm turned and was talking about something regarding a ‘Kid’, turning his helm to regard Deadlock a sincere smile came over his face plates as he explained the situation, after Deadlock had a clean bill of health the med-bot had sent him on his way with his own words of wisdom.

“Listen to me kid I saved you’re life today what happens next is up to you, get yourself a paint n’ polish and visit the functionist downtown see if they can match you up with a job- you’re special I can tell now get out there and prove me right.”

His distant words still rang through his helm even now; he wasn’t sure what the doc would think of him now. He didn’t prove anything other than he was good at following orders and killing, Deadlock was sure that wouldn’t make any bot proud especially a medic who helped bots no matter the standing for free.

Sighing Deadlock pinged the lift for his floor only for it to arrive with Jawlock in it, momentarily surprised he walked just evading the door closing on him,

“Deadlock,” the femme said with a curt bow of her helm

“Captain Jawlock,” Deadlock replied, which were the only two words shared on the entire lift up.

No later did the lift end both Decepticons were kneeled in front of their Lord and master,

“Rise the both of, we need to see optics to optics for this briefing,” Megatron said with a smirk


	9. Locked in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Autobots are given as prizes, and revelations are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay chapter nine, so at this point in the story things are really starting to move along. This chapter marks around the half way point, with 9-10 more chapters to go but i have not decided yet. This is going to be a three part series which I am supper excited for.

Jawlock walked a few steps behind her lord in step with Deadlock, flicking her optics over to look at the former gutters mech she felt herself smirk when she caught the hungry primal EM field he was giving. Whoever he was going to choose out of the limited choices was going to have a very interesting time.  
Walking towards the courtyard still bustling with activity Megatron’s words still rang through her helm,

‘I have noticed that you two have put an astounding effort towards the Decepticon cause, to that I applaud you. Although your achievements surpass the other troops by far and for this I shall give a reward for your hard work, as you two know along with every other soldier stationed at this base we have two new decorations. I’m giving you two permission to each take one and do whatever you like with them, on one condition. Make sure they stay in one piece, they are still valuable bargaining chips.’

Giving a feral grin she glanced at the crowd as they parted to let the three through to the contained Autobots, who seemingly hung lifelessly from their bonds still exposed for whoever wanted to see.

Megatron tapped slightly on the medic’s chamber which made the mech jerk in surprise, making the bonds shake with the movement. Lifting his head up to scowl at the offending knock the facial expression only deepened when he saw what caused the noise, only then to go on a curse spiting tirade. The muffled curses only made the crowd chuckle harder, it looked rather ridiculous and it came to a point where Jawlock knew the medic didn’t care anymore about how he looked it was more about getting his pent up frustration about getting caught in the first place out of his system.

“Jawlock since you brought our esteemed guests here why don’t you choose which one you would like.” Megatron said which earned a chorus of groans from the crowd, which died down once Jawlock turned to give a venomous glare. 

Smirking in approval she walked over to the third in command’s chamber ignoring the muffled demands from the medic, feeling the unwavering gaze of the TIC on her frame made the whole experience even better. This one was not going to break easily and Jawlock liked a challenge, from her experience undercover the Autobot TIC was resilient, enough charm to light up a city mixed with the killer instinct of a trained assassin. It was no surprise that he was TIC, nodding to Megatron Jawlock watched as the seamless door opened dragging out the tense bot. Not giving him a chance to regain his bearings Jawlock yanked roughly on the chains making the bot stumble after still half exposed.

All the while Jazz knew that this was not going to end in his or Ratchet’s favour, he started thinking of an escape plan once the cons got to comfortable with their prisoners. Which they always did all Jazz had to do was wait for that golden opportunity, until then he was going to have a very unpleasant time.

0000000000000000000000000

Ratchet was angry, no scratch that he was slag spitting furious. The anger induced energy was slowly fading and being replaced with dread, as he looked at the only other bot Megatron walked out with approaching his chamber. Not missing the possessive look on the cons face as he got a look at the bound position he was in,

‘Well Ratchet, this is fine mess that you’ve got yourself into, and one that you might not get out of.’

Ratchet thought to himself as he herd the hiss of the door opening, the dread turned into full blown panic. Schooling his features to not egg on his current ‘master’ Ratchet couldn’t control the frantic beating of his spark. Sliding out gracelessly, before he could get his pedes on the ground the con hauled him up carrying him over his shoulder. His plates burning with fortification his open panel was tilted to be level with the con’s view, hanging limply Ratchet couldn’t find the strength to even struggle a little bit. There wasn’t much of a point, where was he going to go? He was alone Jazz and First Aid were who knows where, he had no weapons and strapped into to this ridiculous armour that didn’t even cover his spark or valve.

The jostling of each step the con took vibrated through his frame and concentrated in unwanted places, focusing on other things rather than the growing sensation. Ratchet never was the one to believe in a deity, and he later would deny it but he prayed that where ever the con was taking him he would get there soon.

After several more clicks of walking on the cons part Ratchet deleted the thought of ever saving his dignity, it almost seemed as if the con was talking the long route to wherever he had planned. Along the way more than a dozen other cons had stopped the con, luckily the con known as Deadlock was not a mech of many words only stopping for a few moments and moving along much to the other cons disappointment. Each making their own lewd comments which made Ratchet’s face plates burn with dread and embarrassment, what he did notice during these encounters was how Deadlock’s grip tightened to a point of pain or how he backed but marginally, not enough to notice but enough to feel movement when a con got a bit to touchy or close to him. 

It was decidedly odd behaviour for a con, but not unpleasant. He would rather just have one con touch him than several others, or no contact at all thank you very much. At this point the third option was no longer available; it wasn’t as if everyone stationed hadn’t seen his equipment. He sighed

‘I am never going to live this down, a public execution would have been better and it would have saved Jazz and I a little dignity.’

At this point and time having his valve exposed wasn’t a big deal to him, he had to show and share it plenty of times for some more unsavoury jobs when he was the academy. The thing that really irked him was showing his spark, it was their most vital and private part of their frame. Only family members would know what they look like, not even lovers would share sparks, even bondmates were hesitant. Megatron knew to show it off to a large crowd would be mortifying to any bot, it made his energon boil at the thought.

0000000000000000000000

The walking stopped with a sudden halt, the small beeping of a code being entered only made Ratchet stiffened further. The room was dark, the faint smell of polish wafted through the room, lifting his helm slightly to get a better look. The room itself was rather large, it had several doors in the separate corners of the room. What was most unique about the room was the four large floor to ceiling windows which had a perfect view of the city and the plateau separating Iacon and Kaon, if you looked closely enough you could see the distant towers of Rodion.

Distracted by the view Ratchet didn’t notice the shift of Deadlock’s shoulders until he was hoisted off of them and dumped roughly on the bed. Grunting at the impact Ratchet looked up at his new master, stiffening when the would decide to pounce on him. Maybe he could catch him off guard and make a run for the door, as unlikely as that was it was worth it to give it a try. Glancing at the path to the door, Ratchet groaned internally as the too loud click of the lock engaged. Seems like he wasn’t as subtle about his plan as he thought he was if Deadlock had caught on.

A rather possessive rumble emanated from the con above him, propping himself up Ratchet squirmed up the berth to make space between him and the con, only to stop at the padded berth head. Keeping his eyes on the con Ratchet watched as he gently placed his wide range of “tools” on a rack opposite of the berth; once he was done he turned faster than Ratchet could follow. One click his back was pressed to the berth head, the next he was dragged down the berth. The con loomed over him pinning his servos roughly above his helm with one servo, while the other one grabbed his jaw in a tight grip and shoving an armored thigh between Ratchet’s legs. The con tilted his helm to lock optics with Ratchet, who met his gaze unwaveringly

“Now listen here medic, this is how things are going to play out. You do as I say, and never leave this room unless I say you can, if you can’t follow these simple rules then you are going to have a very unpleasant time.” Deadlock made it clear as the grip on his servos and pressure on his legs became alarmingly rough for a few frozen clicks, wincing Ratchet nodded in understanding. As quick as he was pinned down he was let go, curling in on himself to hide his still revealed spark.

There was something off about the con, many Decepticons would have taken full advantage of his situation and thrown him back into the brig once they were done. Deadlock did neither, whether it was good of worse for Ratchet if he did or didn’t it was yet to be decide. Caught up in his mussing he jolted when a small cube of energon was trusted into his face plates, looking up with a shocked expression Deadlock answered the unvoiced question

“Drink, you're no use to me if I find you offline, plus Megatron wants you to stay alive.” Was the growled response,

Glaring at the cube, the thought of energon in his tanks overrode his higher processor and the thought the energon was probably poisoned. Once the smell of fresh lightly seasoned hit his olfactory sensors he was chugging it down, all self-control broke after the ignored gurgling tank became the center of his attention. Groaning as the dismissed errors came back in full with new updates attached to them, shoving them aside Ratchet placed the empty cube in the awaiting servo.

“Why are you doing this, any other con would have jumped at the opportunity to have an Autobot at their mercy, so if your stalling the get to it. I’d rather be in the brig where Vortex doesn’t lie about his motives.” Ratchet barked, he cursed at himself when he was the anger in the con’s optics.

Strutting to the medic siting on the berth, backhanding him without a second thought.

“Trust me when I say you’re lucky I chose you instead of the other Autobot medic, you should be glad you’re not down in Vortex’s dungeon. I could have had my way with you, left you broken in the entrance hall, to take you in front of everybot. I could, but I won’t I don’t leave my debts unpaid. Think of this as pay back for helping a gutters mech all those years ago, Ratchet.”

The hit didn’t come as a surprise; it hadn’t been the first time that he couldn’t hold his glossa in front of a more unsavory crowd. The description of what could have been done to him only made the question of ‘why’ more prominent, while going through all the scenarios he caught his name coming from the con in front of him. Snapping his head to look at the retreating form of the con, who walked opened the door slipped out and looked before ratchet could even respond.

Pay back? Ratchet wracked his processor for anything he did to deserve this type of pay back, then it hit him. The odd way Deadlock acts around him, the look in his optics when his spark light washed over him, the way his name was said. It all added up, who knew that the kid he saved so many years ago would end up saving him. It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he said to the kid to get a job; Ratchet couldn’t find it in himself to see which one was worse, being a ruthless killer, or being killed.

Lying back on the bed, Ratchet pondered the new information. This wasn’t exactly how he wanted to see the kid as, but at least he was alive. Ratchet didn’t notice when he fell offline staring at the darkening world of the ruined planet.


	10. Plans and Locks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a bit of an explanation of how the whole ambush worked and how Woodgrinder and Flicker survived, this is what is going when Ratchet and his team are being taken to Kaon. With this chapter it marks the point which where things get really interesting, since this is part of a planned series it will continue into two other series a bit more action packed. I'm still figuring out all the different settings on AO3 so sorry if the layout is a bit all over the place this is kinds of the test run story where I get everything figured out. :D

_Well it's too long living in the same old lives_

_I feel too cold to live, too young to die_

_Will you walk the line, like it's there to choose?_

_Just forget the wit, it's the best to use_

_I lost my mind, in the city of lights_

_In the backstreets buildings and the neon lights_

_When I heard the thunder, I could feel the rain_

_It's the same to me, just a different name._

_~Jungle By:_ _Jamie N Commons_

 

* * *

 

Optimus Prime sat in his large padded chair, bent over the latest report of the lone survivors of medical outpost Sigma. Lowering his face mask he let out a long suffering sigh as he lifted the cube to take a sip of the cool blue energon, the liquid slid down his throat tubing comfortably and landed in his tanks. His HUD no longer giving him low energy warnings, turning his attention back to the report he noted that a separate file had been attached recently. Double tapping with his stylus he opened the new document, it was basic enough Ratchet had taught him how to read these at the begging of the war when he had found him slumped over a stack of unsigned medical pads. Smiling at the memory of the calm guidance used, the room’s atmosphere sobered when he Prime remembered that his beloved friend had seemed to have disappeared without a trace along with the rest of his team.

 

Rubbing his optic ridge, he signed off on both files. The sooner they could get the witnesses recovered the sooner they could find out what had happened to Ratchet, Jazz, and First Aid. Several hours later and four dozen documents signed and shipped off; there was a crisp knock at his door. Pining his door opened  he was met with the sight of Uplink, the tall plated femme only a foot or two shorter than he was.

 

“Prime sir, both Flicker and Woodgrinder are well enough to have an audience.” The femme reported

 

Getting up and gesturing to the hall leading to the elevator shaft,

 

“Lead the way; I shall call Prowl, Ironhide and Red Alert.” Optimus said

 

“I shall make sure a private room is ready for your arrival,” the head ICU officer replies, before opening her own comm.

 

_“Prow, Ironhide, Red Alert come in,”_ the Prime says over a four way commlink,

 

_“Prowl here,”_

_“Ironhide here, whada need Prahm?”_

_“Red Alert reporting for duty Prime, sir.”_

_“The patients from Sigma are well enough to be questioned; I need you three to attend the questioning. The sooner we can find out what went wrong the sooner we can get Jazz, Ratchet, and First Aid out of whatever they’ve gotten into.”_ The Prime replied

 

_“Meet us in private recovery room 230-PRR,”_ a separate voice chimed in the Prime’s helm, relaying the info all three officers signed off with an affirmative acknowledgement.

 

* * *

 

 

The crisp knock on the recovery room door had both Woodgrinder and Flicker flinched the sound resonating throughout the quite room making it twice as loud, as they straightened from their relaxed positions on the recovery berths.

 

“Come in,” the frontliner called

 

The door opened with a whoosh of warm air, the tall copper plated medical officer who had been watching over them for the past few solar cycles walked in with several other figures standing at the door.

 

“Hello you two I do hope you’re feeling well,” Uplink greeted them

 

“Feeling great thanks to you doc,” Woodgrinder replied keeping his optics on the figures outside the door

 

“As you two know two of our commanding staff and a member of the Protectobots have gone missing, as now it is one of our top priorities is to find them and find out what happened in the first place. We need you two to tell us anything you can, if you don’t mind Optimus prime, Red Alert, Ironhide, and Prowl would like to ask you a few questions.” The femme said she side stepped to let the said mechs walk in and stand in front of the two berths.

 

“Thank you Uplink, we appreciate this accommodation and seeing to us so quickly. We understand what you been through must be hard to come to terms with, but for the sake of other lives on the line we need your cooperation.” Prowl said,

 

Uplink was slowly making her way out of the recovery room, her help no longer needed until she received an incoming comm line.

 

_~ Uplink we might need you to stay in the room if the questioning gets to be too much and sends Woodgrinder and Flicker into a violent memory loop, we don’t want them to damage themselves anymore then needed or get only bits and pieces of info which will be useless in the long run. ~_ Optimus informed her,

 

_~ Of course Prime I will be here in case that situation arises, ~_

“Now we need you two to tell us anything that could help us, starting where the security was a miss or any suspicious behavior in any of the rescues.” Red Alert asked,

 

Flicking his optics between the two stiff forms on the berth, Ironhide sighed. He had seen this too many times, good young bots forced to relive the horrors of war no bot wanted to talk about. “Off- lining for the greater good” was a phrase only used by the greenest of rookies trying to convince themselves that they’ve made the right choice, when it’s either them or their comrades starring at the barrel of a blaster pointed and the helms or they’re lying in pool of their own energon fighting for life. No bot said war was easy or particularly fun, what had to be done was done and the bots doing it paid the consequences.

 

Visibly trying to relax the larger the larger mech opened his mouth first to tell what odd things had gone through the base in the past few lunar cycles, everything had seemed to be running smoothly no major glitches that severely handicapped the bases communication. Other than a few corrupted lines of code that were fixed easily enough but had no reason to be corrupted only if somebot had messed with it manually, they brushed it off as some bots fooling around and smashing into the wall to hard. They always had new faceplates every lunar cycle or so and none of them would know how the base worked without prior knowledge of the layout.

 

That ruled out any recent patients to the underground base, whoever was the culprit had to be there long enough to know how to disable important communication lines. There must have been somebot working on the inside with an outside associate, cringing internally at the thought of the hurt the two mechs must be feeling that somebot in their close knit group was lying straight to their faces.

 

“Sirs, its Jawlock. She’s the double agent, the glitch was Bomber. It all seemed like a routine mission, another skirmish another rescue mission to run. While a few bots stayed behind to fix the increasing corruption to our terminals the rest went out to collect the wounded bots, the thing is it seemed odd it looked like a normal fight but something in the wounded Autobot’s EM fields were off. We just shrugged it off thinking it was just the pain of the injuries. We headed back down to repair the injured, that’s when everything blew up in our face plates. The lights went out so everybot who wasn’t working on patients gathered in the main terminal, which is where things really went downhill we found Bomber in the middle of dismembering his partner. He locked the door when everyone filled in, he had this cold, calculating look in his optics. The next thing we know is the screams from the medical bay and having Decepticons drop on top of us already tearing us apart, we didn’t even have a chance to power up our weapons before it was over. The distress message was just a ploy to get ranking soldiers to come and check things out, a few days later Jawlock comes waltzing in. She has Jazz and First Aid dragged in by another con that probably got the jump on them, she then comms Ratchet, the rest is history Ratchet is drugged and knocked out and dragged away with Jazz and First Aid.”

 

Woodgrinder finishes with a shudder while the rest in the room are left reeling with the revelation, if Jawlock was a Decepticon and Sigma was only 50 clicks away from Kaon it wasn’t a mystery to where she was going.

 

“Wait, how do you know all this happened? I thought all Autobots were killed it’s not every solar cycle that Autobots are left alive after a raid.” Red Alert demanded,

 

Giving a bitter smile Woodgrinder locked optics with the security director,

 

“You’re right they aren’t, while I can count myself lucky that the cons got over confident and sloppy and not assume that they’re that good they don’t need to check for a life signal. Plus I can thank Flicker for this but I can stay floating in a near off-line like state and still observe what’s going around in my surroundings, the only flaw is that it’s very taxing on both frame and spark.”

 

Seemingly satisfied he backed off, Optimus having enough info decided they would make their leave,

 

“Thank you for your cooperation we know this was not easy,” The Prime then made his leave with his officers following him

 

“Prime!” Startled by the sudden call he looked back into the recovery room, seeing the frontliner slowly sitting up much to Uplinks ‘joy’ “Make sure you get them back in one piece,” the frontliner gave the Prime one last wire grin before laying back down.

 

Nodding the Prime walked through the doors of the med bay, they had work to get done.

 

“What’s our next move Prime?” Prowl asked,

 

“If we go in guns blazing to Kaon, which might not even be Jawlock’s destination we’re going to lose countless lives for a wild turbo-fox hunt. We need to be subtle have someone watch from a far and strike when the golden opportunity is shown, and we can’t risk more Autobots being captured we need someone who won’t stick out like over one bio-lights when they walk into Kaon.”

 

“Sir you’re not thinking we hire him?” Red Alert asked

 

“What other choice do we have?” The Prime responded

 

* * *

 

 

Ratchet woke to the sound of clattering armor, jolting slightly but not opening his optics just yet he tried to pinpoint the origin of the sound. He didn’t hear the door open, signalling Deadlock’s return. Which were most cons would have called him over to complete a task of their choosing, most cons wouldn’t have been so subtle in entering when they have an Autobot at their very digit tips. Still listening Ratchet felt himself tense more and more when the sound came insistently closer until the sound stopped abruptly, confused he used his EM field to reach out and find outer edges on another EM field to tell who was standing next to the berth.

 

Than faster than he could processes he was flipped on his back plates, the weight of a bot straddling the entirety of his bare frame crushing his arms to his sides. Finally snapping into full awareness he looked up into the red optics, the owner illuminated from the city lights Ratchet could vaguely make out some of the culprits features. The whoosh of an opening subspace was the only warning before a round circular object was placed in his field of view, trying to burrow back into the berth to try and put as much distance between him and the collar like object.

 

It didn’t do much more than make his capture grab his jaw forcefully and tilt his helm to expose his neck cables, struggling even more he tried to at least get a better vantage point rather than being pinned down like a stubborn youngling who won’t sit still for their booster injection. The hiss of an opening maglock was herd and clunk of metal followed, looking at the collar descending down towards his neck made his spark race with panic, was it some sort of torture device for Deadlock’s entertainment, would it turn him into a mindless pleasure drone?

 

The cold metal came as a shock, shaking his helm trying to rip it off he only stopped when the hiss of an engaging maglock was herd. It wasn’t overly tight per say, enough to slip two digits with a bit off pull, that made it no less suffocating. It was clunky piece of heavy metal; the Decepticons don’t put effort into subtly when labelling what’s theirs.

 

As fast as the mystery con was on they were off chuckling in a higher tone,

 

“Don’t worry medic, that’s just to keep you docile while in Deadlock’s company, plus a little more for his entertainment if he’s in a mood.” And with that the con was gone through the door spilling light into the dark room for only a few nanoclicks, but long enough to catch the silhouette of a very familiar helm shape.

 

 

 


	11. The Start of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay all i can say for this chapter is O////////////////O, It was first time writing this sort of thing so sorry if it feels really wooden.

Deadlock quickens his pace down the hallway, determined to get to his quarters faster than he had planned a few clicks ago. He had just gone down to the main terminal to see what shift he was assigned to, cons coming back from outer rim jobs got a day’s rest of no jobs assigned the they were put on light work in the base they docked in until they’re needed somewhere else. Going down to see what jobs was assigned to him; he wasn’t to put off when his name appeared under the roster for training the newer recruits in combat.

 

As clueless as they could be around the more advanced weaponry they came up with some surprisingly unique fighting styles, looking at the command date he realized that he wasn’t due to start until mid-solar morning next cycle. Taking advantage of the timing he decided to quickly grab a cube for himself and sub-spacing one for his new “guest” we started an even pace heading towards the elevator shaft, pressing 67 on the pad display the floating platform obediently brought him up to his floor.

 

In no hurry Deadlock contemplates why he chose the medic in the first place when Megatron rewarded both him and Jawlock, slowing his pace he thinks back to the time not long ago, but felt more than a lifetime away where he was the one at anybot’s mercy. Where he do anything to get enough creds just to boost and repeat the cycle all over again, lather, rinse, repeat. Those three words basically were his whole living digging a deeper and deeper whole for himself, at the end of the solar cycle still stained from the fluids of several other clients from several other solar cycles he felt like he couldn’t get out of what had become his every day cycle.

 

Even if he did get enough creds to get out of Rodion, where was he going to go? He had no skills, education, he’d probably only be another gutters mech in a better place. Not a great move in career choice in Deadlock’s opinion, going deeper and deeper into the unending cycle he sunk into a depression, started boosting heavily, didn’t take care of his frame, started rusting from the inside out. It didn’t stop customers from coming; the state of his plating did dissuade more of the higher standing bots, he still got the same amount of pay, he just did more of the lower paying bots.

 

It wasn’t until that cycle, where he was boosted out of his processor, the cycle he thought he would be taken by the large red and blue enforcer and sent away to a far of rehab center. He had given up on his life along time ago and didn’t resist when the enforcer scooped him up in a surprisingly gentle hold. The rest of the next few cycles are a blur of voices, medical grade, and kind blue optics.

 

Later when he was semi-coherent he learned a bit more about his saviors, he was even tempted to pay back the medic for he had done.

 

* * *

__Flash ~ Back__

_“Hey..”_

_“Not now kid, we still need to fix a few things and then you can get on your way.” The medic explained,_

_“No, it’s not that it’s just, I need to pay you in some way.” Drift said in a slightly more awake voice_

_“This is a free clinic kid, I don’t take creds from those who could better spend it on fuel, and shelter, something you should be doing instead a boosting yourself into oblivion.” The medic comments off-headedly,_

_Feeling his hackles rise, he glares at the medic what he was saying was easier said than done. It also made his faceplates heat in shame and embarrassment._

_“I don’t mean that way…” grabbing the medic’s servo and feeling him tense, he places the servo on his lower abdomen just above his cracked interface panel. Feeling the locking of joints through the medic’s servo he locks optics with the other mech, as if understanding what he was trying to do the medic looks to his servo and back into optics with a sadden smile, Drift could still see the poorly hidden frustration._

_Coming closer Drift prepares himself to please another customer like it was just another cycle, instead he’s surprised when he feels a gentle, warm servo cups his jaw. Tilting his helm the doctor locks optics with him once, unable to look away Drift listens carefully to what the doctor says next._

_“Listen here Kid; right now in these walls you’re safe. You won’t ever have to use your frame here, not for me or any other bot working here. If they ask refuse and report them to me immediately. I set up shop here because I believe everyone has a right to free medical care no matter the standings, hence the free part. You don’t owe me anything and you don’t have to pay me back, this is what I do because I feel it to be right. I don’t do it for the gratitude.” The medic finishes emphasizing the speech with a firm squeeze on his other servo._

_Drift doesn’t know how to feel, forcing down the coolant that threatened to well up in optics. No bot had done this for him, no bot had shown him such compassion, and no bot had asked for nothing in return. In the gutters everything had a price whether it is frame or spark._

_“I still don’t know your name,” Drift responds weakly_

_“You can call me Ratchet, Kid; No get some rest I’ll discharge you in a few cycles._

_Lying back down, Drift watched as the medic walked from his bed to another and then another checking over offline patients, some with sparklings and some without. Rolling the now named medic’s given name in his processor he decides that it fit him perfectly._

__~End of Flash Back~__

 

 

* * *

 

Shaking himself out of the memory loop Deadlock continues down to his quarters, it wasn't until he was almost at the door to his quarters when he noticed Jawlock leaning against the wall. Raising an orbital ridge Deadlock was slightly off put by the fact the she was down here and not on the 87 floor where her quarters were placed. Slowing his walk to a stop he turns to offer a nod of his helm in a respect. The last bot that didn’t was embedded into the outer wall with a blade through the interface panel, she didn’t acknowledge him at first but when she looked up he was slightly shocked to see her smirking.

 

“Deadlock, walk with me for a moment would you?” The femme made the question seem a bit like an order than a simple request,

 

Nodding and walking up to walk besides the femme, he noticed a strange glint in her optics, “How has you’re pet been? Behaved I hope.”

 

“He’s been good I guess, I can’t really say I’ve only had him for less than a solar cycle.” Deadlock replied to the strange inquiry,

 

“I see, well you haven’t come out with any signs of attempted attack so he must be pretty docile, probably still in shock, The Autobot pride will be the main reason that they will lose the war.” The captain explained, while deep in his spark Deadlock knew Ratchet was different.

 

“Anyway, make sure to keep him in one piece after you’ve done what ever you’ve planned, we wouldn’t want any special additions would we?” Jawlock said as she walked off,

 

Confused by the captain’s strange wording Deadlock shakes his helm, and looks at the doorway to find himself standing a little ways away from his door. Walking up to it he’s enraged to find it slightly agar as if someone hadn’t fully closed it after entering, unsheathing his blade he stalks towards the crack in the space between the door and wall. The sound of muffled grunting, and struggling made him freeze and listen closer, the sounds of grunting only to be replaced with a chocked moan.

 

Snapping and bursting in through the door, Deadlock surveyed the room quickly only to find it empty with a withering mass on the bed. Making his way past the storage locker, vid screen, and small couch Deadlock was soon looming over the squirming form of Ratchet.

 

Looking closely at the medic, Deadlock now saw that the medic’s hands were wrapped around a thick collar around his neck cables. He could feel the heat radiating from the medic’s frame from where he stood. The faint smell of lubricant registered to Deadlock prepping his interface system ignoring the insistent pings he focused his attention on a faint blue that had caught his optic, looking at the medic he saw a still lit data pad next to the overheated mech picking it up he saw a message written in a messy scroll.

 

_Frag the medic hard Deadlock, and he might not run around looking for somebot to release the charge building in his circuits._

Looking back to the medic and the pad, he felt the screen crack und the pressure of his grip. Somebot had strapped his medic into a charge inducing collar, nasty little things developed early in the golden age, made for the entertainment of higher ups as two unsuspecting bots were locked into the collars and the next moment were fragging each other into oblivion.

 

Sighing Deadlock rolled Ratchet over to get his attention, the medic’s optics bright, his armor hot to the touch.

 

“Ratchet, I need you to listen to me. I know how to help you but you’re not exactly going to like it.”

 

“If it’s going to get this collar off then just do it, I’ve seen enough to know about these collars.” Ratchet panted,

 

Grunting Deadlock climbed onto berth bracketing the medic’s shoulders with his forearms, looking down at the medic once more searching for something that would tell Deadlock that the medic was having second thoughts. Finding none Deadlock move his helm to slide his glossa over the medic’s thick neck cables earning muffled whimpers in return, increasing his effort on the cables, choosing to sink his dentae into a few which hummed with the running energon just under the tubing.

 

After a few moments of biting and licking Deadlock soon had the medic grinding against him, lifting his helm he saw that the medic had thrown an arm over his optics. Moving the medic’s arms and pining them over his helm Deadlock started attacking the grey chevron and red audios with small bites then soothing the spot over with his glossa, the duel sensation on his sensitive helm kibble had Ratchet convulsing, pulling away and pushing into the sensations.

 

Feeling like the medic had enough Deadlock trailed his glossa down the medic’s torso laving attention to the parts that seemed to demand it, backing up to kneel between the medic’s spread thighs he trailed a servo up one of the thighs to brush at the sensitive hip seems. The medic made a move sit up propping himself on his elbows face plates flushed with heat, only to be stopped by a heavy hand pressing on his lower abdomen. Getting the point Ratchet let his arms give out and collapsed back on the berth, cupping the red interface panel Deadlock smirked slightly when he felt the medic jolt then relax in his grip, grinding down lightly in his servo trying to increase the teasing touches.

 

Stepping off the berth the kneel at the edge Deadlock yanked the medic to the edge as well earning a surprised squeak, hoisting bare thighs over his shoulders Deadlock got a better access at the hidden protoform and transformation seams, heat rolling of the red and white frame in waves. Rubbing and licking at the seams he got a chocked moan from the medic above him and a more vigorous squirming, clamping his hands down on the thighs it halted the medic’s movement from the hips down. Moving things along Deadlock started laving attention to the hairline seam that led to the medic’s valve, noticing that moister had already gathered and was leaking out in a small stream that the medic was more riled up then his actions let others believe.

 

Kneading the medic’s inner thighs and trailing his glossa over the thin, red metal Deadlock paused to utter a command to Ratchet,

 

“Open up medic,”

 

He was answered with the medic snapping his valve cover open and revealing his already leaking valve to the Decepticon, the heady scent accompanying the silvery lubricant. Humming in approval, Deadlock kept the un armored thighs splayed open with his forearms as two digits pressed on the outer edges of the valve to push the rubbery folds apart revealing the depths of the medic’s valve. Ratchet letting out a long sobbing moan as Deadlock inspected his valve, grinding down he just really wished he had something in his valve. The intense inferno in his lower regions had only increased since Deadlock had started, Ratchet was close to begging the con if he didn’t do something soon.

 

Watching the calipers in the valve clench down on nothing Deadlock pictured what it would be like to sink into the wet, clenching heat. Giving a slight groan he inserted a single digit into the open valve, letting go of the outer edges he let the valve fully close around his digit. Slowly pumping deeper he was rewarded with the panting, and moaning medic above clearly being affected by his ministrations, thinking about dragging it out he erased that thought when he heard something coming from the medic.

 

“What was that?” Deadlock asked slowing his fingers which earned a defeated moan,

 

“Frag, me.” Was the reply,

 

“I’m not sure I heard that correctly, did you want something?” Teasing the anterior node with his thumb before thrusting in another digit,

 

“I-I want you to frag me, please-se” Ratchet choked out,

 

Finally giving what the medic needed, Deadlock pulled his digits out and in the same moment released his spike and pressing into the medic. Ratchet wailed at the sudden intrusion, valve calipers cycling down squeezing the length inside of him. Deadlock hoisted the white thighs over his hips to sink deeper until he was flush against the medic’s panel. Groaning at the feel of having his spike enveloped in the tight, wet, heat he started grinding hips to get the medic used to his girth.

 

It wasn’t long until the medic was bucking his hips begging Deadlock to pound him, to do anything. Flexing his abdominal cables Deadlock sets a brutal pace that has ratchet throwing his helm back with soundless scream. Keeping the medic still with servos on his hips, Deadlock was a relentless force that kept pushing itself into Ratchet. The medic not being able to move grabbed the edges of the berth for some kind of purchase, Deadlock was thicker and longer than he excepted but the spike filled him nicely hitting his ceiling node each time he bottomed out.

 

Feeling the charge rising within the medic, Deadlock started thrusting faster physically moving the red and white mech the force of his thrusts. The charge had been building since before deadlock had walked in the room, when the overload did Ratchet arched of the birth with a choked scream. Thrashing as the charge rode out, all the while deadlock kept up his pace, he overloaded several thrust later, the result of the valve rippling around him too much. Deadlock reached his own overload as he bent over Ratchet growling into his audio and let his transfluids fill Ratchet’s valve, grinding into the clenching valve until the charge was completely gone.

 

Relaxing on the medic, Deadlock released a vent as he pulled out of the valve. Surprisingly it didn’t close like it would normally after an interface; glancing up at the medic he could tell that the charge had not dispersed. Looking at his HUD it was still pretty early and he wasn’t due until later the next cycle, crawling back on the berth he dropped his weight on the medic which made Ratchet release a harsh vent. Not liking that a sudden weight was dropped on him he soon silenced as a glossa started giving his neck cables a drawn out exploration as a servo made its way down his front.

 

“I’m going to frag you until you can’t even remember your designation medic,” Deadlock purred into a red audio pleased with the shiver he got.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Brewing Strom

Deadlock awoke with the insistent sound of his alarm ringing inside his helm, cracking an optic slightly he was greeted with a stabbing pain as the early morning light assaulted the recharge sensitive orb. Grunting and rolling over he startled when he felt another frame on the berth with him, said frame huffed an ex-vent and burrowed itself deeper into his back plating. Fully awake now Deadlock slowly turned his helm to see the still recharging Ratchet, seemingly trying to merge their frames together. Tempted to throw the medic off and get ready for his shift, he ended the line of thought when Ratchet nuzzled into his neck cables venting hot air over the sensitive wires. Wriggling out the medic’s hold Deadlock stood and stretched out his kinked cables, looking at his HUD he noted that he didn’t have to be there until a few more hours, taking his time he got himself cube of energon sipping it in relaxed gulps. After he finished he tossed the plasti-glass cube down a shoot to be refiled and re-distributed, grabbing a cloth he headed for his private wash rack.

 

The private wash rack was medium size enough for two to three bots to move comfortably, drying station and large walk in tub with shower extensions sat at opposite ends of the rack. Walking a few steps into the elevated tub Deadlock closed the door behind him, sitting down on the ledge and leaning back as the cleansing fluids drifted around him he reviewed the previous night cycle’s events.

 

Deadlock’s systems heated at the remembered feel of the medic withering underneath him as he pounded him from behind on all fours, and that had been the fifth or sixth round and the medic was still primed to go after that. It took at least a few more rounds to finally get the collar to snap off but Deadlock’s memory got a bit hazy of how it just suddenly snapped off, usually it stays on for longer until the bots system goes offline. Either that or a spark merge had occurred, and that couldn’t have happened Deadlock would have remembered a spark merge. He hadn’t felt anything off this morning other than a slight stiffness and the light burning sting of scratch marks on his back plate. Other than that Deadlock couldn’t have said he had felt this good in a long time

 

Sighing and glancing at his HUD Deadlock hoisted himself out of the tub and quickly dried himself, slipping out of the wash rack a few clicks later Deadlock walked to the door when a slight whine came from the berth. Rolling his shoulders Deadlock walked over to the medic grabbing a cube along the way, approaching the berth quietly Deadlock saw the medic curled up in himself with his servos  seemingly holding his abdomen. Looking up to the medic’s face plate Deadlock saw a deep frown curved into the pale mouth, orbital ridges draw tightly together. The medic looked a little like a sparkling with the frown looking more like a pout than anything else, against his better judgement Deadlock ran a digit along the edges of the black chevron and watched as the frown slowly dissolved from the faceplate and into a relaxed slack jawed look.

 

Shaking himself and sobering there was no need to treat this Autobot any differently he was an enemy, Deadlock walked out of room, shutting and locking the door before heading down to the training rooms.

 

No matter how many times he tried to tell himself that he had treat the medic like an Autobot, an enemy he couldn’t quell the feeling of guilt for striking the medic. For all the medic had done for him he decided to repay him by locking him in his personal quarters.

 

* * *

 

 

The walk down the hallway to the center of the tower where the lift was just like it was, reaching the floor just above the main throne room. It was an odd placement for a sparing ring, but when a bot thought about it the placement was genius. It was a large circular room that rotated slowly, giving the changing scenery and fast paced motion on battle it simulated what it was like to try and keep your focus on one thing at a time for long periods and not get distracted.

 

Arriving to the top floor Deadlock walked out of the lift as the transparent orange light faded as the floor spiraled closed once the lift descended, the lights automatically flicked on creating a harsh fluorescent glow to illuminate the sealed room until the blinds were pulled up. Getting data pad and clicking out of place on the wall it immediately connected to the holo screen that lowered from the center of the ceiling.

 

Flicking through the screens of reports from other trainers, he finally came across his. It was a blank template meant to be filled in with the notes and progressions of the rookies he was teaching, noting his teaching time he realized that he would be doing this for the next few weeks. Frowning, usually rookies weren’t kept with an instructor that long. Resigned to his fate of training for the next few weeks, Deadlock started flipping through the lineup. Getting an idea of what the group’s skill sets were before they started, organizing the training regime Deadlock’s thoughts floated back to the medic probably waking up alone in his room about now.

 

Double tapping on the pad for room settings, Deadlock watched as the lights flickered off leaving him in complete darkness. Reveling in the darkness until the shutter retracted letting late morning light in, spilling warm yellow light on all sides, looking into the distance Deadlock watched as the brewing mix of purple, black, and dark gathered to the north of the base. A storm was coming that was for sure, whether a warning for things to come Deadlock couldn’t decide.

 

* * *

 

 

Ratchet woke from recharge groaning rubbing his helm, he onlined his optics to a ceiling that wasn’t his own. Optics cycling wide he shot into a sitting position, wanting to get a better grasp of his surroundings and wanting to at least die fighting and not on his back.

 

Looking around Ratchet realized that he was the only one on the room, with only the sound of his own vents and subtle hum of the room’s atmosphere control. Throwing the thermal coverings off Ratchet moved to get off the berth, only then the aftermath of last night make itself known to him. Groaning and letting his servo drift down he winced as his valve an agitated clench, protesting the sudden movement. Taking in deep vents he grabbed the edge of the berth and heaved himself back into a somewhat standing position, bringing his other to his neck cables he felt a wave of relief when he did find the metal collar residing around his cables.

 

Seeing something out of the corner of his optic, glancing over at the object a single cube of energon cube and a data pad sat on the small table next to the L-shaped couch. His tanks gave a low rumble as the scent of fresh energon reached his ol-factory sensors, more rational thoughts of the energon might be tampered with were pushed away as Ratchet picked it up and downed the blue liquid in several mouth fills. Letting the energon course through his frame he picked up the data pad, it was a simple message telling him the dos and don’ts when living with him. If you could called what his life had become “living”, at least he had given him accesses to a wash rack.

 

Deciding to wash off the tacky mess Ratchet walked over to the only other door in the room, opening the door he walked into the wash racks and headed straight for the large tub. Messing with the settings Ratchet leaned back and allowed the solvents wash around him coming up to his chest plate.

 

Sighing in pleasure Ratchet let his helm fall back clanking slightly upon impact with the edge of the tub, reviewing the previous night’s events. Deadlock had surprised him, he would suspect that his faction would affect the way he would treat a lover. Rather than the rough, quick, frag that Ratchet braced himself for Deadlock was kind made it pleasurable drew it out until he was begging.

 

Relaxing into the solvents the unexpected fluttering of his spark and a barrage of emotions that weren’t his had him scrambling out of the tub in no time, landing on all fours Ratchet tried to calm his racing processor. He tried to think logically, unexpected fluttering didn’t mean anything in the long run. Sparks were constantly fluctuating based on drastic emotional change, while it was less likely the emotion could have been ghost memory from other merges.

 

There was no need to jump to conclusions; taking a deep vent Ratchet focused his consciousness to his spark. Able to focus on the different aspects of a spark not many are able to do so due to the lack of proper equipment, the medical upgrades for this type of procedure died out and thought unnecessary next to the vial equipment a field medic might need. Digging deeper he came to his essence, what he found almost made him break down.

 

Two small orbs lay nestled in his spark, not old enough to form any coherent thoughts but enough to let their carrier know that they loved him no matter who he was. Without thinking Ratchet sent love back to his sparklings which made them glow with joy, giving a sad smile Ratchet released his focus on his spark.

 

Slowly getting up Ratchet found that he no longer had the spark to enjoy the rack when he knew his sparklings were going to be at risk from now on, getting rid of them was going to be difficult, keeping them was going to be even harder. Trying to get rid of himself would be suicide, if he were to he would need medical equipment and people who knew how to operate it. Ratchet doubted that they kept sparkling experts on base and those willing to work on an Autobot. Trying to let his increasingly frantic emotions get to the new sparks, attempting to shield them the best he could. Their slight curious pokes at his spark, as if trying to ask him if he was okay. Giving a dry chuckle he knew he wouldn’t be able to get rid of his sparklings even if he tried.

 

He knew he couldn’t stay, for his team and his sparklings he needed to find a way to escape. He just needed to wait for that golden opportunity.

 

* * *

 

 

Jazz let out a sigh as Jawlock left the room for recharge, trying to rotate the cracked shoulder cuff to no avail. The femme had stamina that was for sure, when he and Ratchet were dragged away he thought it was his golden chance to knock out both cons grab Ratchet and First Aid and get the hell out of there. Even before he made his move the other con in possession of Ratchet made a beeline for a different hallway, while Jawlock walked into the elevator shaft.

 

At least she wasn’t going to tear him apart and put him back together like a bizarre experiment, at least no this time. Apparently she had plans, plans to make herself an obedient little servant. Beating him whenever he didn’t follow orders, painful and degrading to him while amusing to her.

 

Dragging him around for all to see, as it would seem Jawlock ha forgotten who he was in her position of power. He was unintentionally giving him the blueprints of the Decepticon main base, he would have to thank her later it’s not every solar cycle that a con would do something so nice.

 

Sitting down on the floor next to the pole that connected a long chain to a collar around his neck, all he needed was a plan and a hope that Ratchet and First Aid would last long enough so he could get to them.

 

 


	13. Rumbles

 

Pulling himself out the fetal position he had found himself Ratchet sat up struggling to get on his pedes, he couldn’t remember why he was on the floor in the first place or why he was he was in a wash rack and not Deadlock’s room. He knew deep down why he had woken open curled in a ball on the cold, tiled floor. The gentle presences around his spark only forced him to acknowledge what he was ignoring, he was sparked and doubting the fact wouldn’t stop the growth of the new sparks. Rubbing the edge of chevron to relieve himself of the growing pain building up behind his cranial unit, Ratchet slowly heaved himself up into a shaky stand.

 

Feeling the rush of energon from his helm to flow through his other extremities made Ratchet pause and vent in deep to dispel the churning nausea, wobbling over to the door he momentarily stumbled losing his bearings in the dark room. Fumbling through the dark room Ratchet finally managed to find a slide away paneling leading to several different dials, testing each one he got an array of outcomes remembering which ones did which for future references. Several trials latter the blinds for the floor to ceiling window slid open letting in the bright afternoon light in, the light slightly dimmed into an odd greenish purple due to the oncoming storm clouds.

 

_‘Acid storm, a strong one too.’_ Ratchet thought as the ominous rumble echoed in the distance, moving around the room he memorized the layout and noted if certain vantage points were to be needed in the future. After his inspection was done to his standards the red and white mech settled down, dropping himself heavily on the couch. The furniture a lot more absorbent Ratchet let him sink into the bean-bag like material, shuttering his optics would do him and the sparklings some good in the long run.

 

* * *

 

 

Deadlock watched in the reflection on the glass as the troops filed in, forming unorderly clumps until ordered to do so otherwise. Checking his chronometer Deadlock turned on the group, a medium seized of around 22. Turning from the glace he faces to the other waiting in silence until the others lined up accordingly, looking over each one of them he noticed that only one of them had the optics of a mech that had seen too much for one so young while the others still show with naivety.  

 

Walking up and down the line several more times he could feel the intense stare of the mech constantly on his plating, observing his movements, like a well-trained killer. Halting in front of them Deadlock still observing the group, staring back at him were the glaringly over polished purple brands that had seldom seen battle. Taking in a deep invent Deadlock prepared to start preparing the for the high stress of a battle field,

 

“You all know why you’re here today, as do I. My job is to make sure you live past you’re first battle fighting against the enemy, the Decepticons have no need for metal that can’t fight, they’re better of being used as cannon fodder with the drones or as spare parts.”

 

Telling half lies to the troops wasn’t going to do them any harm, if anything it would make more determined to make themselves better fighters and not end up in the bowels of the base collecting dust like the other awaiting droids. Smirking internally at the varying reactions, spending a good portion of his life in the gutters one learned to judge other based on their movements. Unconsciously broadcasting their emotions and motives no matter how hard they tried to keep their EM field emotionless, the optics were the biggest give away in any circumstance.

 

Looking over the group, several had almost caved in on themselves armor clamped down tightly, optics shifting nervously. Ones who stood at attention ramrod straight and unwavering, while others stared at him in a challengingly posture lack with a cocky lip. All the while the green, black, and red mech still met his gave straight on. The blank faceplates and EM an old trick to persuade your pursuer that it would be an easy kill, and in turn let their guard down.

 

Pointing to the mech he motions him to come forwards, following the instruction without hesitating he walks to the mat. The other gathering around the edges to watch,

 

“What’s your name mech?” Deadlock asks

 

“Tack, it’s not like names matter in a war. It’s better to remain nameless when the bots around could die at any given moment.” Tack said

 

“That is true, but if you create a barrier to large you won’t be able to communicate with your team. When there’s no communication between ranks it leads to failure and death, and we all know how much Megatron loves bot who fail him.” Deadlock replied

 

Nodding the rest of the group watched in silence as Deadlock explained the dos and don’ts of hand to hand combat and close range fighting, dividing the group into pairs. Walking around to each pair Deadlock observed the quirks and weakness that the rookies openly displayed. The main traits they had in common was that they were to gentle, to timid, sloppy, and disorganized in just about everything.

 

Dispersing the groups, Deadlock moves to the main mat. Choosing the troops at random, glancing over to the left side of the mat he notices one of the cockier rookies giving him a leering look. The hot pink femme was almost painful to look at, her armor left something to be imagined. It barely covered her vital components; the designer looked like they were more focused on beauty than protection.

 

Strutting forwards, she came in a little too close for his personal space. He had seen this type of Cybertronian before, even in Rodion. They believed that others should worship the ground they walked, flaunting their frame and armor to prove what they could afford. These types of bots usually died first, or sacrificed another more honourable bot while telling a slapped together story that make themselves seem like some heroic god.

 

“All right everyone I need to show you vital technique in taking down your opponents using their weakness to your advantage.” Deadlock said as the others gathered around, the femme still had the leering look, but Deadlock still caught the wave of confusion that passed through her red and yellow optics.

 

“Now on a battle field protection is vital, it needs to be durable but still allow ample movement” Deadlock said while twisting his torso “There are several different kinds of armor, depending on what field you go into, frontliners are heavily armored with thick plating but are slow, spies have thinner plating but more room to move and are fast enough not to get shot at, while medics have broader reinforced armor to carry heavier patients and be able to take one or more hits when they’re working on somebot, their speed depends on how big their patient is. Armor doesn’t have to look pretty or be “in style” if it gets the job done you can have it as scuffed up as much as you like.” Deadlock explained,

 

Turning to the femme he smirked outwardly as the realization dawned on the younger bot, approaching her a placed a simple servo on her shoulder covering. It was so minimal it couldn’t even be called armor; before any of them could react Deadlock gave a swift punch to the exposed abdominal protoform just above the gestation chamber. Not hard enough to do any damage but hard enough to hurt. The femme wheezing and dropping to her knees, holding her abdomen and soon falling to the floor gasping for breath,

 

“Now as you all saw with swift punch to the exposed abdomen it will leave the opponent momentarily stunned and defenceless, we’re going to practice these scenarios with the simulator. Everybot may take an energon in the meantime.” Deadlock said as the group dispersed to different energon dispensers, the femme limping after them but not before shooting him and icy glare. Shrugging Deadlock unsubspaced his own cube, not completely trusting the public dispensers.

 

Finishing off the cube in a few large gulps, Deadlock was caught off guard by the sudden wave of nausea almost making him drop the cube. Shaking it off as nothing he started choosing different battle scenarios the troops would able to do, either solo or as a full group together. Starting the program once they had finished refueling, watching as they put his advice to the test taking down simulated enemy after simulated enemy.

 

A little more than half way into the last scenario did another nausea spell hit him, hard enough made him stumble and hold his vents. Feeling heat rise to his faceplates will alone wasn’t enough to keep the processed fuel down; Deadlock knew that battle was lost once his frame convulsed violently expelling the fuel still in his tank. Groaning he coughed up the rest spitting it out to joining the splattered pool on the floor, the scent purged energon wanting him to repeat the performance all over again.

 

Now several of the rookies had gathered around, slowly pulling him up from being down on all fours to an upright kneeling position holding his helm so it wouldn’t fall back. Another wave nausea caused Deadlock to convulse again, the protective layering inside his tank also coming up with the rest of the energon making his throat tubing burn. Hearing the faint voices of the bots in the room faintly over the roaring of his cooling fans, no later was he picked up on either side with a bucket placed in front of his face plates should he purge again.

 

Whining at the rocking motion, Deadlock focused on keep his in takes steady. Oblivious to entering the lift the sudden jerking motions caused him dry heave, having nothing in his tank it left his body continuously trying to expel something that wasn’t there. Pulling Deadlock into the med bay several floors down and a tower over felt like it took orns and not just 15 clicks, the three bots who had helped down remained while the rest of the class was dismissed.

 

Soon several bots were hovering over him, checking his natural reflexes. Finding that simple scans wouldn’t do any good after the first primary test were done, Deadlock was hoisted on to a floating berth which was led into a circular tube. Bathed in a series of rainbow lights did nothing to sooth the constant tank churning feeling, in point it only made it worse. Relieved once he was pulled out to hear the faint conversation between the medics and the other bots, each giving their own claim to what had happened.

 

“It’s probably a virus, but to be safe we’ll keep him here until everything clears up and there are no further symptoms.” He herd one of the medics say, the prick of an IV needle came no surprise when the energon blend entered his system relieving him of his constant nausea. Relaxing the best he could into the firm padding of the med berth, Deadlock drifted off unaware that his resident medic would soon get a visit.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you sure we should be doing this, you know without asking his permission first?” A large yellow and navy blue mech asked,

 

“You carried him down to the med bay, do you think he’s in any condition to answer any question, plus the medics said if he got this from the medic he’s keeping at the moment we don’t really want this to be spread around.” The hot pink femme said, chewing on a tacky energon gel,

 

“We also can’t rule out the Autobot sabotaging Deadlock’s energon so it would weaken him and the medic could then escape, he’s a lot craftier then one would suspect.” Tack said as he over rode the key code, the three each holding their own set up stasis cuffs and detainment whips. Treading carefully into the room, being careful not to disturb or create any noise. Walking into Deadlock’s quarters with one goal in mind, walking into the illuminated room the overcast creating just enough light to make the silhouette of a sleeping mech visible just a few feet away recharging soundly on the couch.

 

Placing the whips in three anchor points, the rookies prepare to let the sizzling tentacle wrap around each limb,

 

“We want to get this just, right. On the count of three we all attach the restrains, ready?” The femme asks, getting nods in return.

 

“One…” The beginning of a lighting strike manifests outside with window,

 

“Two…..” The sudden flash flood the room with sickly green light, creating long shadows against the frame in the room

 

“Three!” While three is drowned out by the resounding thunder clap, Ratchet barley has time to startle awake before he is met with an electric charge running through his frame faster than he can process. Struggling and convulsing in the bonds Ratchet plunged back into the world of the offline when the true down pour of the acid rain begins.

 

 


	14. Shock

The constant down pour of acid creating a rippled pattern that spanned across the room, creating dappled designs over anything in view. Waiting several minutes in battle ready position to see if the medic was only playing them waiting for the right moment strike and escape. Relaxing after several clicks without any movement from the Autobot had passed, releasing the anchor point from the wall and floor the loose ends securing his arms behind his back and his ankles to his upper thighs.

 

Hauling the medic over his shoulder plating Lattice followed Crossfire out, followed in turn by Tack. While being trapped in an unresponsive frame Ratchet was still able to control his primary processor functions, he could observe for now and act later. Swaying with each step the con took, Ratchet waited until something gave him a hint of where he was being taken. Trying not to tense doing so would alert his captors that they didn’t fully put him offline, and would amp of the charge in his bindings, potentially hurting his sparklings.

 

Speaking of his little ones Ratchet focused from his surroundings to the developing new sparks clinging to his, probing the gently he was immensely relived when they both gave a lazy pulse responding to their carrier. Relaxing a little more Ratchet couldn’t deny the mounting dread had slowly built after he had gotten no response from his sparklings, thinking that they burned out due to the electrical pulse being too strong for them to handle.  


Only to find them rotating around his spark in a dazed state, the damage that had been done would be repaired by his own spark. Probing them again getting a more active, traveling around his spark gathering the genetic material needed to develop the protoform when the sparks did drop. Knowing that the spark separation was only two lunar cycles away, Ratchet hoped that an opportunity to escape would arise before he started showing.

 

Wrapping his presence around the lavender spark and the pale gold spark he could feel the constant love the sparklings flooded him with, enjoying being so close to their carrier. Not being old enough to tell what frame type they were going to be, but developed enough to have some of their personalities show through. The lavender spark was the more timid one of the two while its twin exuded curiosity and interest in everything, while the lavender new spark would rather attentively poke at anything foreign before cautiously approaching it and examining every detail before becoming comfortable.

 

So intrigued by his sparklings’ differentiating personalities the impact of the hard metal floor came as more of a shock that it should have been if he had been paying attention to his surroundings. Internally groaning at the hard sudden impact ratchet let’s go off the hold he has on his sparklings and refocuses on his environment. Onlining his sensory functions at first he is met with muffled sound and blurred vision.

 

“Freeze Autobot! Make a single move and we’ll blow your processor out.” A deep rumbling voice said

 

“Listen mechs, do ya really want ta do this? Just give me the medic and I’ll be on mah way, simple am I right?” A voice said, wishing he could turn his helm so he could see the owner of that distinguishable voice, and hope that his processor wasn’t playing tricks on him.

 

“Please like we’ll let you strolling out of here with our bargaining chip, if you want to get anywhere you’ll have to get threw us first.” Another higher pitched voice replied,

 

The sound of a harsh ex-vent, and the sound of somebot putting their servos on their hip joints was herd as a response,

 

“Alright, I did give you the chance to leave with your lives,”

 

Before anything else was said Ratchet felt the vibrations of a frame heavily impacting the nearby wall, flicking his optics he caught the corner of a dark blue and yellow mech sliding down the wall, leaving a smear of energon, probably offline. The enraged howl soon followed after their comrade hit the floor, a flash of bright pink wielding circular blades jumped for the figure at the end of the hall.

 

The clang of blades crashed together, a sudden snap and a wail was herd as a dismember arm was sent skittering towards Ratchet’s direction stilling clinging onto the blade. Wondering why the alarm hadn’t been pulled yet Ratchet held onto the hope that they hadn’t been detected yet, feeling the vibrations of a quickly approaching frame Ratchet tensed waiting for an attack. He wasn’t disappointed, grabbed by the neck the last standing mech held ratchet’s limp frame in his arm while he held a wickedly sharp blade to his cables.

 

He wasn’t sure if her should be relieved that Jazz was alive and in once piece, or angry that the slagger was still here trying to save him.

 

“Move, and I’ll slice him wide open. It’s your choice Autobot,” The mech holding him said, bringing the blade close enough to cut through the out layers. Feeling small rivets of energon roll down his neck onto his collar armor.

 

Seeing Jazz hesitate Ratchet knew the longer the mech holding him stalled the more time reinforcements had time to get here, they were no fools, the alarm had gone through the whole base the moment they set optics on Jazz. Just because they didn’t hear it didn’t mean that the whole base hadn’t already been put in lock down with abled frame ready to kill on sight.

 

“Hurry there on this floor!”

 

“Move it soldiers, Megatron wants him taken online, I repeat online!”

 

Feeling the energon drain from his helm he tried to force a message through his optics, hoping that Jazz would get the point. He needed to leave now if they were ever going to get out here. The rumbling chuckle traveled through him from behind, as the pede steps got closer as well as the shouting.

 

“Looks like you’re all out of options Autobot,” The black mech said

 

“Not exactly,” Jazz replied pulling something out of his subspace. Raising his arm he slammed whatever what was in his servo to the ground, exploding on impact creating a thick black smoke. The hallway’s vent system working hard to remove the smoke, once the hall was cleared Jazz had gone along with it.

 

“Damn it,” The mech said dropping Ratchet.

 

“Soldier, we got the call where is the escapee?” A femme asked,

 

“Gone, he escaped. Pulled some cheap trick to get away, didn’t take his friend with him though.” The mech said giving Ratchet  a swift kick.

 

“Megatron’s not going to like that, Jawlock will probably get the most heat for this whole situation kid. For now let’s get your friends down to the med bay, while we deal with the Autobot.” The femme said going to pick up Ratchet.

 

“Wait, we were bringing this one down to run a few tests, he might have an infectious off world virus.”

 

“I see you have your priorities straight. I will leave you with three of my men if the Autobot shows his face again.” With that the femme left leaving behind three heavy duty mechs in her wake.

 

“You herd her let’s get these bots to the med bay,” Tack said.

 

* * *

 

 

Deadlock onlined with a pained groan, feeling several tubes moving around inside his frame with each subtle movement. Filling through the amassed amount of updates when he was offline, Deadlock noted that his lines and tank had been flushed and refiled. Unshuttering his optics the first thing that his frame  bring notice to is the too big fueling tube stuffed own his throat, his gag reflex kicked in once his sub routines to swallow were back on line.

 

Throat tubing constricting around the dry tube dangling hallway down to his tank, coughing a spluttering Deadlock went to lift up his arm to yank the offending thing out. Only to find the tube magnetically locked to his intake. The rough scrapping against the inner walls, the harsh stinging sensation brining coolant to his optics. To focused on trying yank the increasingly painful tube out he didn’t notice a medic approach him with a small black box, yanking hard enough to break the material Deadlock was relived once it finally slid out. Coughing up the oral fluids that had gathered in the back of his throat, he grabbed the cloth being held in front of his face plates.

 

Wiping his face plate off as the medic worked in silence, not uttering a word the medic detached the offending tubes sticking out from him. Finding the silent medic unnerving Deadlock was about to demand what was wrong with him, and why he had the purging episode early when a data pad was shoved into his view.

 

Looking it over, Deadlock realized that it was detailed report on what his symptoms and treatment was to treat the virus he had contracted. As well as the post treatment, sighing Deadlock barley glanced up when several more bots were admitted to the med bay.

 

“Hey Deadlock, isn’t that your Autobot pet?” The call came from across the room making him look up the data pad and watch as his medic was strapped down on the berth opposite to his.

 

Turning to glare at the rookie that filled in after the medics were finished strapping own the red and white frame down, approaching the black mech without alerting the other to his presence he slammed his servo near the bot’s helm, trapping him with an arm on either side of his frame.

 

“Could you explain as to why the Autobot medic that was placed in my custody; is here being pawed at by a bunch of medical rookies when he should be in my _locked_ quarters?” Deadlock asked in a clipped, monotone voice.

 

Cowering slightly against the wall the black mech didn’t respond right away opting to look anywhere that wasn’t his superior’s icy optics.

 

“Well?” deadlock prompted leaning in slightly,

 

“Well….. You see sir, Lattice, Crossfire, and I thought it would be a good idea to bring the medic to the med tower after your purging episode, just in case he had the virus. We didn’t him spreading it around and disabling other troops.”  Tack said in a jerky, hesitant voice.

 

Thinking that the reasoning made sense Deadlock let the thought of the three rookies just wanting to get their own claim to fame in Decepticon ranks by taking down an Autobot officer. While still being furious at the fact that they broke into his quarters and entered without his permission, harming something that was his, and then leaving him for the barley trained medical rookies.

 

“Alright kid, I’ll give the benefit of my doubt, but if I ever find you pulling something like this again I can promise you that you and your comrades will be seeing Megatron personally. Understood?” deadlock said which earned vigorous nodding in response.

 

Releasing his hold on the wall Deadlock turned to watch as several scanners flowed over the medic’s frame, the monitors watching the panicked spark beat.

 

_Wait a click…_

 

If the medic was fully offline then the spark beat should be an even, steady pace.

 

“Hey shouldn’t the spark beat be steadier?” A voice asked from behind, turns out the kid beat him to the punch.

 

The electric hum of the scanner fades to resume the silent atmosphere of the med bay, either medic didn’t hear them or they ignored the question, to focused on what the scans found.

 

“It should be, the only reason would be if a spark was fluctuating would be an abnormality.” A new mech said walking in,

 

“Hook,”

 

“Ah, Deadlock it’s so good to see you back on your pedes again.” Hook purred,

 

“Whatever, just tell us the problem. We don’t want any kind of spark virus being spread around the base.” Deadlock said

 

Pouting Hook took the data pad handed to him by the younger medic, looking it over a frown etched itself onto his lip plate.

 

“Are you positive you used the right scanner, and looked for the right code?” Hook asked the medic in front of him.

 

“Yes sir,” was the response,

 

The frown was with a rumbling chuckle, a sly smile came over Hook’s lip plates.

 

“What? What’s so funny?” The junior medic asked, confused at his mentor’s sudden change of attitude.

 

“It appears that our dear medic is sparked, with twins.” Hook said aloud for anyone hear, the silence was thick in the med room waiting to be broken.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :D


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